A Firefly Christmas
by Loki's Campaign Manager
Summary: Features Kaylee and River making paper snowflakes, Wash being forbidden to cook, Jayne getting in a fight while gift shopping, Inara dispensing tea and wisdom, Book serving up a delicious dinner, Simon telling an unusual Christmas story, and Zoe calling Mal an idiot. Pairings include Mal/Simon, Zoe/Wash, pre-Kaylee/River. This year's holiday gift to the Firefly-reading internet!
1. December Twenty-First

Happy holidays to all.

My dear cousin, who noticed long ago that I enjoy torturing my characters, dared me to write a fluffy Firefly story for Christmas. I am not one to back down from a challenge, and so this fic, while not really fluff, is meant to be a heartwarming holiday tale. With slash.

Beta'd by proudtobeatheatrekid.

This story is set between the series and the film. I am aware that in the official timeline, Christmas would not fall then—I just wanted to do it that way. It has no relation to my other Firefly stories. Enjoy!

 **Translations:** Are below.

 _Tian xiao-de_ —Name of all that's sacred

 _Le-se—_ Junk

 _Meimei—_ Little sister

 _Gao yang zhong de gu yang—_ Motherless goats of all motherless goats

 **December Twenty-First**

Simon held up the long knife he'd removed from Mal's left arm. "If I wasn't a trusting sort of person, I'd say you were trying to get yourself killed." He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, wait. I'm _not_ a trusting sort of person. What in the _tian xiao-de_ were you thinking?"

"I didn't hardly start it!" Mal protested. First Zoe had given him an earful halfway to the rendezvous, and now that all her worries had proven absolutely valid, Simon had to pick up where she'd left off. "Client picked the drop point, not me."

"And the fact that you were supposed to meet outside a bar called the Hanged Browncoat didn't give you, oh, the smallest notion that this was a setup?" Simon demanded.

Jayne snorted from the infirmary corner, where the doc had just disinfected and bandaged the bullet graze he'd acquired. "Me, I'm surprised they didn't slice your gorram hand off, Mal. And now that there's no deal—"

"Could be there is a deal," Zoe interrupted, stepping into the infirmary, followed by a tan-skinned woman with dark hair pinned up in braided knots, a swelling bruise on one cheekbone. "Noriko has a notion we can make a profit off this anyhow."

Mal grinned at his fellow former soldier, a Browncoat who'd gotten slammed twice by grenades and still refused to die, and wouldn't have made friends with civilized folk if they lived next door for ten years. "Gonna spin straw into gold for us?"

"Looks like you could use all the help you can get," Noriko retorted. "That knife were any longer, we could spit and roast a pig on it." She eyed Simon. "So _you're_ the ones who picked up that rogue Osiris medic and his little sis. Honor to meet you, Doc. Anyone who sticks it to the Alliance is a friend to me."

"Um. Thank you." Simon set the knife on the counter and went to sterilize his needle and forceps.

The thump of cargo boots sounded on the stairs, and a few moments later Kaylee poked her head into the infirmary. "You alright, Captain? Zoe said you got sliced up."

Mal glared at the rest. "It's a sad day when a man gets a little nick on his arm—not even his gun arm—and his crew won't leave him the hell alone about it."

"A four-inch laceration is not a little nick," Simon informed him, beginning to stitch up the cut. "Or would you like a detailed description of what could happen to your not-gun arm if infection sets in?"

"I'll take a pass. So, Noriko. What's your notion?"

Noriko leaned against one of the infirmary counters. "Got a contact on Kerry named Adrianna. Used to be a merc, married a smuggler named Tengfei, now the two of 'em basically run the crop seed trade for a good thousand acres."

"So you reckon they might take an interest in the salvage we picked up?"

"I'd bet a barrel of whiskey on it."

Zoe tilted her head to one side. "Kerry's naught but four hours away. You give the go-ahead, sir, we'll get in touch with 'em and pinpoint the coordinates, and once the doc's stitched you up, you can come to the bridge and seal the deal."

"Sounds like a plan. Could even have a few days of shore leave once we're there." Mal nodded at Noriko as Simon wrapped a bandage over the cut on his arm. "Thanks."

"Least I can do for my old sergeant." Noriko chuckled as she and Zoe left the infirmary. "Might take some luck to pull the deal off, but you've got luck to spare if you can keep this piece of _le-se_ in the air for near on six years."

 _"Le-se?"_ Kaylee ran after 'em. "Don't talk about my girl that way. Serenity ain't…" The voices faded out as the three women walked up the stairs.

Jayne heaved himself to his feet. "Vera's cartridge needs replacin'. Best go take care of that now." He vanished out the door.

Which left Mal alone with Simon. A situation which he was a bit more fond of than he'd ever be willing to admit to anyone. It was most likely a good thing that the doc was, as a rule, focused on whatever injury Mal had just gotten. And it would most likely have been far better if Mal had continued to see Simon as just Serenity medic or as just River's brother. Not as…well, he weren't going to think on it.

"Do you…" Simon stripped off the rubber gloves he'd worn and began washing his hands.

Mal slid off the medbay chair and looked at him. "Yeah?"

"Do you celebrate Christmas? Here on Serenity, I mean."

"Never a much of one." Mal shrugged. "I know Zoe and Wash come up with gifts for each other—think he gave her a flower made of pipe cleaners last year. And Kaylee usually bakes a cake or some such. Reckon Shepherd Book might try to hand us a sermon this year, but I for one ain't listening. Why?"

Simon turned back around from the sink. "River couldn't have had much of in the way of celebrations at the Academy. And even before that, even on Osiris, well…"

"Well, what?" If anyone had asked Mal what Simon and River's Christmases growing up had been like, he'd have hazarded a guess they'd been given pretty much whatever they wanted. But the hunch of Simon's shoulders and the way his eyes were fixed on the floor didn't exactly indicate that.

"It seems silly, now. But my parents…we had relatives we were supposed to impress, so everything always had to be perfect on holidays. Including us." Simon laughed, but it didn't sound amused. "My main memory of Christmastime is of River accidentally breaking a tree ornament and my mother screaming at her. That, and the time we were trying to make a gingerbread house on Christmas Eve and my father told me I was too old for that."

Mal thought of his crew tossing their ball around in the cargo bay, defying every game rule in the 'verse. As far as he knew, it had never occurred to anyone that they might be too old for a thing like play. "That mean you ain't one for celebrating?"

"I could be. Just—not in the ways I've been used to. I think last year I didn't even realize it was Christmas, I was trying so hard to get River out." Simon stopped. "I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to listen to me complain. You go through enough trouble for us as it is."

"Well, not today. Today the trouble came from plain bad luck and me not listening to Zoe."

"I know there are jobs you have to turn down because River and I are onboard. I just hope this new one doesn't turn out that way." Simon paused. "And you?"

"What about me?"

"What do you do for Christmas?"

"Nothing." The word came out sharper than Mal had intended. "Don't believe in it."

"Why not?"

"Don't care much for anything to do with God. Haven't since Serenity. We ain't the only folks came out of there crippled, you know. Noriko, who you just saw—she was one. Had soldiers there were as close to me then as my crew is these days. Now some of 'em are stuck in grounded ships, some of 'em lost kids to slavers, some of 'em missing limbs—and what does God do about any of that?" Mal shut his mouth. No point in speaking of this. Point of fact, he weren't sure why he'd said a thing.

"I'm sorry. They deserve better."

"You don't even know 'em, and you'll still say they deserve better?"

"Nobody should suffer like that," Simon said flatly. "I don't care who they are. Nobody."

There it was, the reason he shouldn't let himself be drawn to Simon—because the 'verse smashed up folk with philosophies like that, faster than brick to glass. All the doc could do with such notions was get himself hurt. And yet it pulled Mal in like gravity—the morality, the love that Simon was so obviously capable of.

"I'd best go up, make sure Zoe and Noriko got that deal squared away. Crop seed down there is burning a hole in my hull."

 **OoOoO**

"Wash!" Mal grabbed the console to keep from being knocked to the floor when Serenityjerked. "If you land wrong on that ice and kill us all, I'm docking your pay!"

"I'm sure that, being dead, I'd never forgive you," Wash replied, busy with the controls. "If we bounce a few times on the way down, it'll get rid of all that bad karma we've built up."

"Made great time on the way here, at any rate." Zoe straightened up from where she'd grabbed the pilot's chair. "Be nice to have a little time dirtside, even if we got to trek through a blizzard."

"Yeah." Wash flipped a switch. "Good job planning for Christmas, Mal."

"It's shore leave, and no more, you hear?" The last time a holiday had rolled around—Easter, as it happened—Kaylee had spent more credits than Mal liked to think of on chocolate eggs. Plus, he'd been trapped into listening to Book's sermon on the risen Christ. "Last thing I want is the Shepherd thinking I'm putting us out of the way for God."

"I'm not the one you should be getting irritated with." Wash grinned at Zoe. "The only goddess I worship is right here."

"Doubt the Shepherd's going to think you're overly moral, sir." A smile tugged at the corners of Zoe's mouth. "You've planned for us to drop off our cargo right on Christmas morning."

"Client picked the time, not me. We go where the pay is." There was a time, during the war, when he'd have ordered his soldiers to cease fire on Christmas Day. Back when he'd had a shred of faith.

Wash landed them smooth as could be on the icy runway. "I think you haven't calculated for the Kaylee factor."

Mal was going to demand just what he meant when Jayne clanked in. "Anyone know any good whorehouses on this gorram planet? Hear we got three days off."

"What the hell are you doing with all those guns? Don't you have a bunk?"

Jayne glared. "Moon-brain's taken to lock-pickin'. Why can't she be the dumb kind of crazy for once?"

Zoe sighed. "Guess I'll go tell the doc to control her. Reckon his favorite Christmas gift would be a day off from River's antics. Doubt he'd say a word of it, though." She hurried off the bridge.

 _"My_ ruttin' favorite Christmas present would be those two off this boat," Jayne grumbled. "They're more trouble than they're worth."

"Say that the next time Simon stitches up the bloody, infected, six-inch gash on your leg so you can walk without a limp the rest of your life," Mal told him.

Serenity's engine ground to a halt, and Wash got to his feet. "Off to find my goddess. If I were you, I'd finish your no doubt absorbing conversation after we've figured out what Kaylee's up to." He strolled off the bridge. Jayne snorted and went after him.

Mal considered following and trying to knock some sense into Jayne, but decided to let it go for now. Besides, he had clients to wave. Adrianna and Tengfei had proved eager enough for the crop seeds, but had hinted that if the crew of Serenitydid not inform them of their arrival right quick, they'd assume they'd run off with the goods.

The wave screen on the console was close to shorting out, but worked well enough for close range, and it wasn't long before Tengfei's face appeared. "Captain Reynolds. Running into trouble en route?"

"Not a bit. Fact is, we're here now. Want to pick up the cargo right away, or stick with the twenty-fifth?"

"Twenty-fifth will be fine, unless you have some grave objection to trading on Christmas."

It took some effort for Mal not to roll his eyes. "No objection at all."

"Good. I'm hoping the local populace will be too busy celebrating to notice our little exchange. Of course, they'll have to patch themselves up first."

"What're you meaning by that?"

Tengfei raised his eyebrows. "Didn't you hear? There's a factory in this town that had an explosion, and about a third of the people work there. Plenty of hurt. It's a pity, I say."

Mal nodded, preferring not to think too much about what would happen to injured folk on this backwards rock. "Any idea when the storm's gonna let up?" His crew would likely sulk to no end if they had to spend their leave stuck inside Serenity.

"Tomorrow's my guess. See you in the world." Tengfei disappeared from the screen. No sooner had he done so than an ear-splitting scream echoed through the ship. Mal groaned. Screams such as that, when there weren't no gunshots, generally meant River Tam.

Down in the cargo bay, Zoe was attempting to hold River still while Simon tried to wrestle something Mal couldn't see properly out of her hands. _"Meimei,_ that's Inara's. You have to give it back."

"It will bring down death!" River shrieked. "The god Osiris is displeased with our sacrilege! Return it to the Nile!"

"Must say, Doc," Jayne leered from the stairs. "Your little sister's startin' early."

Simon whipped around to shoot Jayne a poisonous look. "The Hippocratic Oath only goes so far."

Jayne blinked. "What?"

"I will inject you with a paralyzing substance if you continue to make allusions to my sister's sex life."

Sex life? Mal peered closer at the item in River's hands, and saw, with a goodly dose of horror, that it was a vibrator. Not that watching the siblings fight over the thing didn't tickle him.

Inara descended down the stairs, far more calmly than Mal bet anyone else would in her shoes. "I apologize, Simon. I thought I had those locked up."

River let go of the vibrator so fast that Simon tumbled to the ground with it in his grip. She jerked away from Zoe and ran up past Wash, who'd come to see what all the fuss was about. "That doesn't belong to us, does it?" the pilot inquired of his wife.

"No, darling. We ain't got a need for such things."

Simon awkwardly held out the sex toy to Inara. "Actually, I'm the one who should be saying sorry. I've thrown the lock picks she was using out the airlock, but I can't guarantee she won't make more. There's a lot of wire around this ship."

"Who's this Osiris?" Jayne interjected. "She talkin' about the planet or what?"

"Osiris was the Egyptian god of the dead, on Earth-That-Was. The planet is named after him, actually. One story goes that his brother Seth cut him into pieces and scattered him across Egypt."

"You'll have to explain a mite more, Doc," Mal told him. "Don't think we understand perfectly."

"Ah. Yes. Well, apparently Osiris's wife Isis gathered all the parts together and resurrected him, except for, um, a certain reproductive part, which was eaten by fish. So Isis had to, um, create a new one. I think River thought she'd found the missing..." Simon trailed off.

"I'm certainly glad to have it back," Inara cut in smoothly, to the doctor's apparent gratitude. "Shall we—"

Shepherd Book stuck his head out of the kitchen, where he'd been cleaning up from dinner. "Hello, all. Kaylee asked me to gather you together. She's gone to her bunk to get something, I believe."

With an ominous feeling, Mal gestured his crew towards the kitchen. When he came in, River was folded in on herself in the corner. Simon went straight to her, whispering something that was obviously intended to be reassuring. River just shrank further behind the curtain of her hair.

Weren't the first time Mal had noted that, despite the lack of flying bullets in Simon's job description, he worked every bit as hard as the rest of the crew, even when not stitching up everyone. Had to, what with River being as moonbrained as she was. What Mal and Zoe and Jayne did was dangerous, and that was truth. But in one quick flash it was over. Mal knew from during the war that looking out for a sick person sure gnawed at your nerves, and Simon had been doing it for months without a break.

Made Mal want to help somehow. An impulse he should ignore. Simon and River's business was their own.

Inara sat gracefully at the table, spreading her skirts around her. Jayne propped his boots on another chair until Wash shoved them off to make room for himself. Zoe settled by her husband as Book put away the last of the dishes.

Kaylee came bouncing into the kitchen carrying several scraps of paper. The crew watched, bemused, as she removed a bowl from the cupboard and dumped the pieces into it, then turned towards them. "We're gonna celebrate Christmas proper this year! I've got it all planned out."

"How, little Kaylee?" Mal asked warily. Were his mechanic not so obviously excited, he'd have shot down the idea instantly. Alright, so maybe he'd find a meal that weren't protein for so-called Christmas Day. But seemed like Kaylee had more in mind than that.

"First off," Kaylee pronounced, "I reckon somethin' new for dinner would be right shiny. There ain't much fresh produce to be found where it's snowin' like this, but there's canned stuff, and flour and sugar and things like that. Wouldn't be much, but if we all chipped in, we could manage it."

"Sounds good," Wash agreed, and Zoe nodded.

Jayne shrugged. "Guess I might throw in somethin'."

"It's a wonderful idea, Kaylee," Inara said. "But what do you have there?" She waved a hand at the bowl with the paper scraps.

"I ain't askin' y'all to do much. I'll take care of the decorations—"

Mal swore inwardly. Decorations too?

"—but I can't shop for gifts for everyone. So I thought we'd divide 'em up. You pick a piece of paper from the bowl, and that person's the one you buy a present for. It'll be fun!"

Fun? Mal remembered well the very literal horror of the last "gift exchange" he'd taken part in. The war was not a thing he wanted to revisit, and he would bet Zoe felt the same.

"Not like we'll find anythin' good on this jing chang mei yong deplanet," Jayne grumbled.

Kaylee smacked him lightly. "You gotta be creative."

"It seems like a fine idea to me." Book smiled at the mechanic. "Presents serve to remind us of the Magi's gifts to the Christ child. Of course, they also indicate general goodwill, so even the less religious may take part."

Mal could practically feel the Shepherd sending don't-disappoint-Kaylee thoughts his way. He was about to snap out a no in any case when River spoke.

"Tinsel is silver."

"Sure it is, honey," Kaylee said. "Gold too. I was gonna—"

"Needles are silver."

Simon took her hands. "River, did you celebrate Christmas last—before we came here?"

"Christmas is red and green and white. Red is blood. Green is death, sickly death, rotting away." She peeked around her hair, eyes glittering. "But white is for a truce. They put down their weapons for a day." She began to sing softly, rocking back and forth, words Mal didn't know.

 _"Stille Nacht, heil'ge Nacht,  
Alles schläft; einsam wacht  
Nur das traute hoch heilige Paar.  
Holder Knab' im lockigen Haar,  
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh,  
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh."_

There was silence, broken, naturally, by Jayne. "Right, well, now that we've had our dose of crazy for the day, what're we gonna do about this here gift exchange?"

Simon looked at the others, still holding River's hand. "If the rest of you are willing, I think it's a good idea. Even if only as revenge."

Mal raised an eyebrow. "What're you meaning by that?"

"We might get some joy out of it. And we've all gone through hell of some kind, people trying to ruin our lives. I personally like the idea of them not getting their way."

Now, _there_ was a notion Mal could get behind. "Right. Suppose it'll be trouble and bother to no end, but so long as it don't interfere with the job, it can work."

Kaylee beamed. "Thanks, Captain!"

"Better get my cut for this caper afterwards, is all I can say," Jayne muttered. "Don't want to spend a million credits without no coin on the way."

Zoe gave him a look. "Don't put in on this, don't expect to get nothing out of it. You saying you want to be the only one left without a gift?"

"Hey. Mal don't like it either."

Wash cut in. "Fifteen credits he comes around to the idea."

"You're on."

"Now, there's a few rules," Kaylee continued. "You can't go lettin' everyone know who you picked. It's gotta be a surprise. We'll all leave our gifts outside our person's bunk on Christmas Eve, so they'll find 'em and open 'em. And then on Christmas, after the job, we show everyone what we got and the giver says who they were. Sound shiny?"

"It does." Inara smiled. "Shall we each select our gift recipient?"

Kaylee held out the bowl. "You go first, 'Nara."

Inara reached in and pulled out a piece of paper, unfolding and then scanning it. She looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded for Kaylee to offer the bowl to someone else.

After looks from both Mal and Zoe, Jayne heaved an exasperated sigh and leaned forward. "Fine. Give me that damn bowl." Kaylee held it out and he snatched up a paper, nearly ripping it in half as he looked at it. _"Gao yang zhong de gu yang!_ How am I supposed to give to—"

"Shh!" Kaylee cut him off. "You can't tell nobody!"

"But I can't—"

Wash grinned. "What, the great Jayne Cobb admits he can't do something?"

"Says who?" Jayne stuffed the paper in his pocket and glared.

"I suppose I must also prove my worth," Wash sighed dramatically as he reached into the bowl on the table. Glancing at his paper, he began to chuckle. "Oh, I'll have fun with this. I've got dinosaurs behind me. I can't fail."

River had risen to her feet and come over to the table. "Seemingly random process of selection. The threads weave together. Approximately one chance in thirty-six, or 2.7 percent." She plunged her hand into the bowl.

"I'll help you pick something if you want," Simon began.

River shrugged him off. "Secret. Besides, know what I'll get. Moon and stars and sun."

"Moon and—?"

His sister stuck out her tongue. "Pick one yourself."

Simon gamely took a piece of paper and opened it up. Whatever he read, Mal saw with amusement, made him turn a shade pale. "I'm not sure this is a good idea."

"No, you can't put it back," Kaylee told him. "That's the fun part."

"Yeah, Doc." Jayne took out a knife and started picking his teeth. "I gotta keep—" he paused, "—this here person, you gotta keep yours."

"Don't worry." Simon's face said pretty clearly that whoever he'd drawn _should_ be worried. "I'll manage."

Kaylee held out the bowl to Mal. "Here, Captain, your turn."

In for a cattle, in for a herd, Mal thought, and took a slip of paper, shoving it into his pocket to read later. His mechanic offered the bowl to Zoe next.

"Hmm." Zoe examined the paper, brow furrowed, then tucked it into her vest with no further comment.

"Who ain't got one yet?" Kaylee asked. "Besides me."

Book took a paper. "Now, this should be interesting. Yes, very." Mal devoutly hoped the Shepherd hadn't gotten him. He'd meant it when he'd said the man was welcome on his boat, also meant it when he said God ain't. Book and Christmas looked to be a dangerous combination.

Kaylee dumped out the last piece of paper and unfolded it. "Oooh. This'll be fun. I know just what to get!"

Mal also devoutly hoped she hadn't gotten Simon. Reckon that weren't charitable of him. If they wanted to be happy, he should let them, but shipboard romances tangled things up. Look at him and Inara. They weren't even bedding down and still they fought. 'Course, there might actually be good reasons for that. For all Inara had shipped out with them for more than a year, she was a citizen born and bred and could go back to civilization if she wanted to, didn't know the feeling that came with running and fighting every day of your life. And since the war, that was all Mal had known.

No, shipboard romances never worked. Well, mayhap Zoe and Wash, but they weren't ordinary folk. And Mal only wanted to save Kaylee and Simon the mess that would come if they ended up in the same bunk. That was absolutely it. Nothing else.

"Right, people." Mal looked 'round as his crew. "Our contact says the storm is like to lift by tomorrow. Then you all can head off and do whatever time-wasting things you like until it's time to deliver the goods."

River wandered out the door, Simon sticking right behind her. The Shepherd settled down to read his Bible, Kaylee skipped off to her bunk, and Zoe and Wash, yawning, followed suit. Jayne didn't look inclined to move, and Inara was getting out tea-making equipment, so Mal betook himself up to the bridge. Once there, he took the scrap of paper from his pocket. On it, in Kaylee's handwriting, was scrawled: _River._

Mal decided it was time and past for Lady Luck to stop stepping on him with her damn heavy boots. First the job, then the prospect of tinsel, and now he had to find a present for a genius with a cut-up brain whose brother he liked a little too much.

 **Note**

The song River sings is _Silent Night,_ in the original German.

Reviews are most welcome!


	2. December Twenty-Second

**Translations:** Are below.

 _Qing-wa cao de liu mang—_ Frog-humping son of a bitch

 **December Twenty-Second**

Mal climbed out of his bunk, trying to get the guts to face a day no doubt full of holiday talk. He could have handled a few sprigs of holly on the wall. The Shepherd reading an extra Bible verse. Even Wash and Zoe staying in bed all day to celebrate. But no, Kaylee had to propose all this extra foolery, and he'd given into it because Simon just _had_ to make the whole thing sound momentarily reasonable.

"Storm's cleared up, sir," Zoe informed him in the hall. "Reckon folks will want to head for the town. We shouldn't have trouble finding gifts there, it's pretty big. We could walk, but the mule will be faster."

"You and Wash mind picking up supplies today, doing your shopping later?"

"Shouldn't be a problem. I'll check with him, though." Zoe headed off towards the bridge.

Mal walked down to the cargo bay and glimpsed Simon sitting on the weight bench with a mug of tea. "Something wrong with the kitchen for drinking activities?"

"I fled." Simon sipped his tea. "Kaylee and River have taken over."

"What's that mean, exactly?"

"It means they're making snowflakes and paper chains."

"Snowflakes?"Mal spluttered. "Ain't we got enough real snow outside?"

"I don't think that's the point."

"And you leaving your little sis alone with a pair of scissors, that's downright dangerous, that is."

"They're dull and rusty, but—" Simon got to his feet. "Maybe I should go make sure—"

Mal snorted. "Sit down, Doc. You could take a joke, Jayne wouldn't feel the need to be after you all the time."

"Oh, I think Jayne would feel the need to be after me in any case. He's a positive sadist. Perhaps I should operate on him without anesthetics next time."

"Don't you dare—" Mal began, before he saw Simon half-smiling. "Ain't anyone ever told you not to mess with your captain?"

"You. Repeatedly. But if you could take a joke, I wouldn't feel the need to."

Mal chose to abandon this particular battle. "Thinking folks will want to head for town today. You and River should let 'em know if there's anything you want. Though you might be able to go out your own selves. People 'round here ain't terribly fond of the Alliance. No Feds out this far."

"I'm not sure River should risk it anyway. She tends to...leave an impression. And she can't stay here by herself."

"Wouldn't have to. There's seven people on this boat besides her and you."

"That's true," Simon said cautiously. "And Shepherd Book did tell me there was some kind of equipment accident over at their factory, and that some people can't afford a doctor. I should see if I can do anything."

Mal spared a moment to wonder just how it was Book seemed to know everything. "Don't give away all our meds. We need 'em."

"Don't worry. You're talking to the man who keeps all the bullets he pulls out of you in a jar. When it gets full you can treat us to dinner."

"You mean they all fit in one jar?"

Simon laughed a little. "From the way you've been reacting, you'd prefer us to decorate with jars of bullets rather than anything to do with Christmas."

"Just don't see the point of snowflakes, is all. Cluttering up the place with what you've already got. Now, if they were to get hold of some evergreens—" Mal stopped.

"What?"

"Ain't important."

"You like evergreens?" Simon sipped his tea.

Mal shrugged. "Well enough. Where I grew up on Shadow, weren't many trees. Didn't hardly terraform it good enough to grow aught but grass—that's why we had the ranch, didn't farm. So my mother, she'd dig into her pocket for coin for a few evergreens from off-world every Christmas. Oranges too. We always had oranges, even though they cost an arm and a leg." He cut himself off. Talking about Shadow would just make him miss the place more.

"Funny. In a way that makes me envy you."

"What? Why?"

"Because…" Simon hesitated a moment. "Because I was taught things had to be elaborate and impressive to have value. Getting some joy out of an evergreen branch, or an orange, or other simple things like fresh rosemary or working engine parts—that's something I've only learned here on Serenity. And it's…a better way to live."

"Huh." Mal hadn't thought of it that way. "Don't see how it's better, with us getting shot at every other week."

"I didn't say it was an _easier_ way to live." Simon's eyes dropped to the floor. "My family could have given us almost anything we wanted, but it didn't cost them a thing. Everything you and the rest of the crew give us is earned with wit and hard work and blood. That makes it—" He halted, and set down his tea. "Never mind."

"But you'd go back, if you could." There'd never been any doubt in Mal's mind that Simon and River would've returned to the Core, if it had been safe.

"Knowing what I know now, I'm not sure I could." Simon got off the weight bench and climbed the stairs.

Knowing what he knew now? Mal was about to ask Simon just what he meant by that when River darted out of the kitchen with a pair of scissors, Kaylee right behind her. "Those are mine! Give 'em back!"

"Ownership is relative." River skipped out of her reach. "Does the sky own the birds? Does the ship own the crew?"

Simon sped up. "Don't run with scissors, it's not safe! Give them to Kaylee."

River ran towards the bridge, neatly avoiding Inara, who had just come down the stairs. Kaylee wasn't so lucky, and had to rock backwards to keep from falling on her friend, which knocked Simon hard into the railing. Jayne, standing in the door to the kitchen, snickered.

"Sorry, 'Nara! River took my scissors." Kaylee held up what Mal had to admit was a fairly decent snowflake. "We're makin' decorations! Wanna help?"

"I'm afraid I have a client soon. That sounds lovely, though. Perhaps I'll join you when I get back." Inara moved towards her shuttle. "I just wanted to wish everyone luck with their holiday shopping. I've heard you're buying food today." She beckoned to Kaylee and handed her a silk pouch. "There's my contribution."

"Oh, that reminds me." Simon fumbled in his vest pocket and pulled out an envelope. "Here you are. River gave some too."

"Thanks, folks. I'm just gonna go see where Shepherd Book is. He said he'd go with me and help pick out the spices." Kaylee walked past Jayne into the kitchen. Simon ran up the bridge stairs after River, and Inara vanished into her shuttle.

Wash and Zoe, both in snow-gear, emerged from the bunk hallway. "Where's Kaylee?" Wash waved a handful of credits. "We want in on Christmas dinner."

"I'd be glad to give them to her." Book came from the passenger quarters, wearing a heavy coat and boots. "We're going together."

Jayne sighed and pulled out a grubby-looking packet. "Here, preacher-man. Don't buy any of them cheap cake mixes. They ain't worth nothin'."

"I think we can be trusted to know food of good quality." Book collected everyone's money.

Mal gave up and dug in his pocket. "Tell Kaylee she oughtn't spend too much. No need to dip into her own coin."

"Of course, Captain."

Kaylee reappeared, now dressed in a sweater, scarf, and hat. "Let's go, Shepherd!" She ran down the stairs and began to punch the buttons that opened the cargo bay door.

"We'll give you two a ride into town," Zoe said, going to the mule. "We're getting supplies for when we leave."

Simon hurried down from the bridge, scissors in hand. "If you don't mind, I'd like to come along. Just let me get my..." He stopped, looking at everyone in their warm clothes. "Oh. You're all going."

"Somethin' wrong?" Kaylee's forehead creased.

"I can't leave River by herself. If none of you are staying, I'll have to."

"Yeah," Jayne muttered. _"I_ ain't watchin' Crazy."

The man didn't have to look so crestfallen, Mal thought irritably. You'd think hanging around a bunch of injured folk wouldn't be much of a party. But no, Simon Tam had to get a sad face over missing it. "I'll be here. One girl ain't much to keep an eye on when you've got nothing else to do."

"Would you? I'd really like to help them, if they need it."

Now it was himself Mal was irritated with. He shouldn't be doing bothersome things just 'cause they made the doctor happy. Simon hadn't even asked. But he never did ask for much, except for the crew to keep River away from the Feds and restock the infirmary he used to stitch them back together. It wouldn't cost Mal much to give him something he seemed to want for once.

"Said I would, didn't I? You just hide those scissors, though. Don't want to get stabbed."

"Thank you. I will." Simon looked ruefully at the rusty tool. "I think otherwise I'd have to give you a tetanus shot."

Soon, the mule was off, Wash driving, Zoe beside him, and the others scrunched in the back seats. Jayne went to his bunk, and Mal turned his attention to locating River, a task that proved more difficult than he'd thought it would be. She weren't on the bridge where he'd assumed at first, she weren't in the kitchen, and she weren't in her bunk. Or anyone else's, unless she was down there with Jayne. Which Mal thought unlikely. Ever since River had sliced him open with a knife, he hadn't had much patience with her.

After checking the hatch where they kept smuggled goods, Mal threw up his hands. "Girl, if you're hiding somewhere, you've got me beat."

There was a giggle from the kitchen, and River stuck her head out. "You gave up."

"I looked in there twice!" Mal hurried up the stairs.

River giggled again. "I stayed behind you, was very, very quiet. If you're quiet enough, you disappear." Her face suddenly crinkled up in a puzzled way. "Wanted to disappear. How did you find me?"

"You came out, remember?"

"That's what they'll say!" River wailed. "Make me come out of my mouse-hole, tempt me with cheese. Rip me apart with their claws." She huddled against the wall.

Mal stood there helplessly. "Alright. How about I pretend I don't see you? That sound a proper notion?"

"It's all pretending," River muttered. "The painted lady butterfly is flourishing her wings now. Mating season. But it's not real. She just thinks it is. The jackal bears his teeth. Wants to feed on the carrion. But it's not real. He just thinks it is."

"Painted lady butterfly? Jackal?"

River gave him a scornful look. "You know them. In your pack, wild wolf. You don't hunt alone."

"What kind of hunting you thinking on?"

"Hunt to eat, like we were made to do." River abruptly crumpled, rocking back and forth. "But the human animal does not devour its kills. Full of lead. Bad for the digestion." Her face suddenly brightened. "But some people dance instead."

"Dance instead of hunt? Is that what you're saying?"

"Human beings develop excess energy in the absence of life-threatening circumstances," River informed him. "But dancing also stimulates dopamine in the brain." She suddenly leapt to her feet and ran down to the cargo bay, where Jayne's weights stood on their stand.

"Don't you touch—" Mal began, but River was already yanking a weight free.

To his shock, she easily tossed it in the air and caught it, then grabbed another one and threw it at him. "Play too!"

Mal got out of the way just in time. "Gorram it, girl, you want me to break a foot?"

River glared. "Spoil the game."

"Here." Mal recalled, with relief, the red ball the crew used, and grabbed it from near the bench. "You want to play, play with this."

The next few hours wore Mal out more than any three gunfights put together. River dashed all over the ship and sulked whenever he didn't chase her. She tore the infirmary apart and stuck a (thankfully disinfected) needle in his arm when he tried to stop her. She went into the kitchen and started hitting a pot with a wooden spoon, claiming the quiet was hurting her ears. Then she insisted on telling him a very long story about a Galilean tax collector, poking him whenever she suspected he wasn't paying attention. The climax of the morning was her flipping a safety switch and sending alarms going all over the ship.

"Are you always like this?" Mal finally demanded when he'd gotten the switch reset and sent a highly aggravated Jayne back to his bunk.

River cocked her head to one side. "Approximately eighty-one percent of the time, yes. With a seven percent margin of error."

It was a miracle Serenity weren't in more of a mess than she was. At least River hadn't cried or set anything on fire. Mal tried hastily to put that out of his mind, in case she could read it somehow. "So what exactly does your brother do to keep you in line, huh?"

"Watches. Watches like a mother eagle. Brings the fish in his mouth." River stared out across the cargo bay. "Gives himself away until every piece is gone. Soon there will only be a voice in the air."

"Simon ain't going nowhere," Mal told her. "Wouldn't leave you, I reckon."

River looked straight at him. "Wouldn't leave you either."

"What?"

"He'll never ask. Thinks the painted lady butterfly flutters by. But she covers her eyes when he puts the needle in. Who would the wolf rather hunt with?"

Mal had an odd feeling he was supposed to know the answer to that question, but he doubted he'd come up with one if he puzzled for a week. "Don't know what you mean."

"You will. The music has begun. Open your ears, said Christ, that you may hear."

"I ain't interested in—"

River cut him off. "You can point and laugh, or you can step out on the floor and dance. Stimulates dopamine in the brain."

Before Mal could ask what she meant (not that he thought he'd understand her response), the ramp in the cargo bay creaked down and the mule appeared, laden with supplies. Zoe swung herself down from the driver's seat, Wash behind her. "We've got what we need. Kaylee and the Shepherd threw in their food so they didn't need to carry it. They're walking back."

Wash grabbed a bundle off the top of the supply pile. "I promised them I'd put this in the cooler. By the way, Simon's staying in town until later. Turns out that accident was pretty nasty, as accidents go."

 _"I'll_ unload this." Mal marched down the stairs. "You two go watch her, and that's an order."

Zoe's mouth twisted into a half smile. "Trying day, sir?"

"You have no idea. If I had to do that all the time..."

"I'll keep an eye on her." Wash trotted up the stairs. "Don't worry, Mal. How hard could it be?"

Mal valiantly resisted the urge to punch his pilot.

Kaylee and Book arrived not too long afterwards, covered in snow. Kaylee, pink-cheeked and bright-eyed, declared that Serenity was right pretty in winter, with all the twinkling frost. Book smiled tolerantly and went straight to his quarters to, Mal suspected, warm up a mite.

Simon didn't turn up for dinner, and even after most of the crew had gone to bed he hadn't come back to Serenity. And Mal was only awake and waiting because he wasn't tired. Not the least bit. Chasing River had him all riled, that was it. No other reason. Jayne was staying up too, lifting weights in the cargo bay, so it clearly didn't mean a thing.

Mal sat on the stairs and wondered, reluctantly, how everyone's gift-hunting was going. Inara most likely had the coin to get something classy, but no one else on his boat did, so they'd have to, as Kaylee said, be creative. And though Mal liked to think he had a certain amount of inventiveness when talking himself and his crew out of a corner, he was most certainly stuck on what to get River as a gift.

He oughtn't worry on it too much, just get her a new pair of shoes or something. She needed 'em, wandering around Serenity barefoot half the time. But he doubted that would make River smile, and he wanted that despite himself. She smiled so rarely, and when River was happy, it seemed Simon was too.

Now, that was a terrible reason to do anything. So maybe he wanted River to have some joy, she'd been shut up and had needles stuck in her for three years. It wasn't Mal's fault if his brain seemed to get stuck on Simon-replay at the thought of anything to do with him.

What would the rest of the crew buy their folk? Whoever Kaylee had drawn would likely end up with something fluffy. The Shepherd, despite Mal's suspicions, would likely restrain himself and not give a Bible. Jayne could easily go for the cheap items. Zoe would get something practical, and Wash, something colorful, that was his guess. Mal hoped briefly that Inara had gotten Kaylee, since the mechanic seemed to admire all that fancy junk the Companion could easily lay her hands on.

There was a buzz and a creak from the cargo bay door, and Simon stumbled in, sending snow all over the floor. "I ain't cleanin' that up," Jayne remarked from the weight bench.

Simon ignored him, sitting on the stairs opposite and beginning to yank his boots off. He looked exhausted, and Mal had to resist the urge to rake him over the coals for being out so late. "Is River alright?"

"River's asleep," Mal told him. "She ought to be, running all over the ship like a lit firecracker today."

"Was she really that much trouble? I wouldn't have left if I'd known."

Mal waved him off. "She ain't screamed 'til my ears bled or blown anything up, so I count this a win. 'Sides, from what Wash said, the folk there needed help."

"They certainly did. The only hospital with decent doctors won't treat anyone without insurance. At least there were a few outside medical providers with some training."

"What exactly happened with that accident, could you tell?"

"Not completely, but people were complaining about factory negligence all day, so I'm guessing it was something that could have been prevented." Simon stared at the floor. "I was trying to treat eight people at once. Two of them died in an hour."

Jayne snorted. "Good thing it weren't the crew you were treating. Sounds like we'd be a couple short."

Simon slammed the boot he'd just removed down on the floor. "If you know a good way to treat people with third-degree burns on seventy percent of their bodies, why don't _you_ go down there tomorrow?"

"You're the doctor, ain't ya? Thought it was your job to save folk's lives. First you ain't around when the Shepherd goes down and now—"

"If I'm so useless, treat your own gunshot wounds." Simon walked up the stairs towards the kitchen.

Mal glared at Jayne. "And just what the hell was that all about?"

Jayne shrugged. "He's too easy to get to. Ought to grow a backbone."

"Ain't sure you've got business getting on Simon for losing the folks he's looking after. Seeing as you've already made it clear you don't care if this crew ends up, as you say, a couple short."

"Those two ain't crew."

"Last time I checked, I said who was crew, not you." Mal stomped up the stairs into the kitchen.

Simon was digging through the tins of tea. "Did Kaylee and Book get back alright? It was snowing again when I left, I don't know whether they missed it."

"They're fine. Those tins ain't done you a personal wrong, have they? You look mighty upset with 'em."

"There's a girl Kaylee's age down in that town whose tongue was completely burned away. She'll never talk again. There's a husband who lost the wife he married two days ago. There's a man whose hands I had to amputate. Those are their Christmas presents, because some _qing-wa cao de liu mang_ couldn't be bothered to replace broken equipment." Simon paused. "So yes, I'm upset. Wouldn't you be?"

"You gonna be alright?" Seemed like Simon thought of his patients the way Mal had thought of his soldiers. And oh, sure, he'd known it weren't his fault when they died, but it got to him bad all the same.

"All I wanted was for River to be happy and to be a good doctor. Now River cries half the time and I can't even—"

"You're a fine doctor. Wouldn't trust my crew to you otherwise."

"It means a lot to me to hear you say that." Simon, looking suddenly embarrassed, turned back around to mess with the tea some more.

"Jayne was out of line and you know it."

"Jayne knows he'll always have a place here. I don't. Having River and I onboard endangers everyone here, and if it gets too much greater we can't stay. So calling this ship home..." Simon trailed off.

Mal leaned against the table. "Sure, there's a limit to the risk we can run. But near everyone on this boat would fight hard to keep you here. You've made a place for yourself, and what you do's important, so don't go thinking otherwise."

"Thank you. That's..." Simon looked at the tin of tea in his hand. "I suppose I should stop pretending I want any of this. If I were somebody else right now, I'd drink myself silly."

"I'd say it's best you don't. I reckon Kaylee's latest batch of engine-fermented liquor could scorch your mouth right off."

"You're probably right. I'm just…angry. Mostly at myself, for being so blind."

Mal frowned. "Blind?"

"If that hospital had access to half the equipment and staff of the one I worked in on Osiris, I could have done twice as much to help." Simon slammed the tea tin back onto the counter. "The Alliance says they want to bring civilization, that being united would be for everyone's good, and there was a time I actually _believed_ that. But I can't anymore, not when I see good people hurt or dying because they happened to be born on the wrong planet. Today just reminded me of that."

"Might be you'd get less angry if you didn't expect life to be fair."

"You do."

"What?" Mal stared at him. "You think I expect life to be fair? Simon, I had all that hammered out of me in the war."

Simon shook his head. "Maybe, but that obviously hasn't stopped you from thinking that life _should_ be fair."

"Well, I don't get no credit for that. I'd be cold as stone if left to myself. It's my crew as makes me human. Makes me believe right and wrong even still exist." And Simon was part of that, more than Mal would ever say.

"That's odd, because I think you do the same for us." Simon stood awkwardly for a moment. "I should go check on River."

The mention of River made Mal remember something. "You know what your little sis means when she talks about stimulating dopamine in the brain?"

"Of course. Most simply, dopamine is a neurotransmitter that, among other things, induces pleasure and relaxation. One reason it can be stimulated in the brain is when something unexpectedly good happens."

"Well, that has River's babble making a mite more sense."

"That's always desirable. Have a good night."

Mal watched Simon heading off in the direction of the passenger quarters, trying to put the man out of his mind by recalling just what River had said. _Dancing also stimulates dopamine in the brain._ Suddenly he remembered what Simon had told them about River his first night on Serenity.

 _Everything she did—music, math, theoretical physics, even dance—there was nothing that didn't come as naturally to her as breathing does to us._

Mayhap he knew what to get the girl with the cut-up brain after all.


	3. December Twenty-Third

**Translations:** Are below.

 _Baobei—_ Sweetheart

 _Ni ta ma de. Tianxia suoyoude ren. Dou gaisi—_ Everyone under the heavens ought to go die

 **December Twenty-Third**

Mal stumbled into the kitchen the next morning to find that Zoe was the only one there. "Where's your husband?"

"Asleep." Zoe rummaged in the cupboard. "Far as I know, so's everyone else. Enjoy all this—" she waved around the kitchen "—while you can. Prepare for the tinsel invasion."

"Tinsel. Can't wait 'til this is over."

Zoe chuckled. "It ain't that bad, sir."

"Would think you'd feel the same as me. 'Least about the gift exchange."

"I do, in a way. Funny how that turned out to be the Christmas thing as gets to us the most. Talk about strange horrors."

"Yeah," Mal conceded. "Guess it ain't Kaylee's fault she had to bring that up. Not like she knows. Nobody on this boat does."

"Wash knows." Zoe brought out a pot and a protein packet. "Told him the December after our wedding."

Mal pulled out a chair. "Why'd you do that?"

Zoe gave him a look. "We're married, sir."

"Still don't got to let him know your secrets."

"Handling all your demons by yourself ain't always the way to go. 'Specially when it comes to the person you want to be closest to. I know I was scared to tell it again, but when it's over, you got someone who understands you and your fears a bit better."

"Don't know I want anyone else understanding my fears."

"Mayhap you ain't found the person to tell them to yet." Zoe put the water-and-protein-filled pot on the stove and turned it on. "Since this here gift exchange _is_ happening, what're you hoping for?"

"All kinds of things I could use. Serenity could use a few more parts and I suppose our guns need oiling and—"

Zoe shook her head. "That ain't what I meant. All that's for the ship, for the job. What do you want for your own self?"

"You know well what I'd like. One or two fewer nightmares."

"How 'bout something possible? Or I feel sorry for whatever poor soul drew your name."

"Think the possible ain't my area of expertise when it comes to wishes."

Wash strolled into the kitchen. "Morning, _baobei."_

Zoe kissed him. "Not sleeping in?"

"Without you by my side? I was bereft. Morning, Mal. Are you heading for town today?"

"Reckon I will. Got a gift to buy. Did you get yours already?"

"My secret plot has been executed." Wash grinned. "Well, mostly secret. Zoe helped a little. She, however, managed just fine without me. It was kind of like our marriage."

Jayne stumped into the kitchen and went straight for the protein cupboard. "Suppose I gotta drag myself down there too. Gorram nuisance."

"Yeah, you're comin' with me, Jayne!" Kaylee had appeared at the other door. "Need your help pickin' out somethin'."

"What makes ya think I'm gonna know what to get any better than you?"

"Your kind of thing."

Mal decided not to spare a moment in wondering just what was Jayne's "kind of thing."

After breakfast, Wash accosted Mal in the hall. "Adrianna, our client? She wants us to wave her as soon as we can."

"Probably wants us to lower our asking price a notch or two, in the 'spirit of the holiday.'" Mal climbed the stairs to the bridge.

Wash followed. "Oh, I don't know. They might just want to pay us in paper snowflakes."

Mal punched in his clients' wave code, and Adrianna's face appeared. "Captain Reynolds. Tengfei tells me you've arrived."

"Been here since yesterday."

"And no trouble?"

"Not a bit." Mal frowned. "Why do you ask?"

"You've heard about the accident at the factory. Well, people are pretty angry about it, and the police around here sometimes have crackdowns. I doubt it'll happen, and you're not actually involved in either side, but I'd stay out of the working-people side of town today."

"Will do. Thanks for the warning."

"No problem." Adrianna signed off.

"So are you going to put off the trip?" Wash asked.

"Probably not. If Kaylee's gonna go through with this Christmas thing, she might as well have the chance to do it proper. And I think we'll mostly be shopping at any rate."

Wash winked. "I had to sneak away from Zoe to buy her gift yesterday. She knows I did it, but at least she doesn't know what I got. I hope."

"So you got her? I thought we weren't supposed to tell no one."

"What? Oh, no. This is extra. Husband to wife thing. There's nothing like a surprise gift for the special person you care about. You'll figure that out soon enough."

"What? Why? I ain't got no special person."

Wash smirked. "Sure you don't."

"Me and Inara ain't gonna work out, if that's what you're thinking. We—"

"Who's talking about Inara?"

Now Mal was well and truly confused. "You were."

"Well, if you don't know, I'm certainly not going to tell you." Wash went off down the stairs. Mal decided Wash was a few parts short of an engine and he wouldn't demand an explanation.

Down in the cargo bay, River trotted up on Zoe, who was standing beside the mule, and handed her several crumpled credits. "Presents are a social indicator of affection. I need the moon and the stars and the sun for my gift."

"You're gonna have to explain a little further, honey," Zoe told her.

River rolled her eyes and went up on her toes, whispering in Zoe's ear. She listened a moment, then nodded. "Oh, I see. Moon and stars and sun...got it. I'll fetch 'em for you."

"If you understand, it's more than I did." Mal climbed into the driver's seat of the mule with Jayne beside him and Kaylee and Simon in the back. Since Book and Wash were planning to stay on Serenity, and Inara would be returning later that morning, the doctor had decided, obviously cautiously, to leave River again.

"Think it's real nice, you goin' to help all those folk," Kaylee told him.

"It's what I was trained to do. I'm glad to be able to offer some assistance." It would've been real hard for a man to look more uncomfortable than Simon did, crammed in next to the girl who'd been giving him looks since he'd stepped onboard the ship. Though Mal had noted Kaylee wasn't flirting with Simon as much as she had been, but mayhap that was his wishful thinking. And having wishful thinking about that was really inexcusable.

Zoe climbed into the back, tucking away River's credits. "We're set, sir. Let's go."

Snow flew up on either side of the mule as they drove towards the city. Kaylee chattered to Zoe and Simon, both of them throwing in a sentence or two occasionally, while Jayne sat and sulked. Mal hoped he had the right idea with his gift to River. The idea of her staring blankly at it or tossing it to the floor in one of her fits weren't an appealing one.

What did he want for himself? Zoe had set him to wondering. He knew for sure it weren't something he could hold in his hands. Mayhap just the chance to forget for a time that he weren't any more than a soldier who'd lost a war.

The mule screeched to a halt on the outskirts of the city. Kaylee scrambled out and grabbed Jayne's arm. "Come on! I know just where to go!"

"This better not take long," Jayne informed her as he was dragged off.

Simon climbed out of the back. "Thank you for the ride. I'll walk back by this evening." He hurried off opposite from where Kaylee and Jayne had gone.

"Know where you're going, Zoe?" Mal asked.

"Reckon I do. Good luck with your shopping."

"I'll need it," Mal muttered.

He had to ask six different people for directions before he got on the right track, and then had the misfortune to get attacked by a group of carolers, who blocked his path while singing songs with a grating variety of skill. Mal ducked into an alley to avoid them, and was right pleased with himself for his escape 'til half a roof of snow slid off a nearby eave and dropped on his head. Once he'd waded out of that into a nearby street, two poorly dressed drunkards descended on him, mistaking him for a man who owed them a hundred in platinum. He managed to talk them down, but the last of his patience nearly vanished when he slipped and fell on the ice a block over.

Gorram girl better appreciate this, is all, Mal thought grimly as he spotted his destination. In a few steps he was there, inside, and ready to go right back out again. The song playing in the shop was one he'd heard his last Christmas at home, on Shadow, and though that might be sentimental for some, it just reminded him of what he'd lost.

"Need help finding something?" The shopkeeper was sorting something behind the counter. "Or do you just want to browse?"

Mal tried to pull himself together by envisioning how Simon's face would look if River didn't get a present, and then promptly kicked himself for using that as any kind of motivation. "Help would be good. Do you have one of those things you can hook up to a ship's com to play music so the folks onboard can hear it?"

"What make is your ship?"

"Class 03 Firefly."

The shopkeeper frowned. "Great ships, but not many in the sky anymore, so I've mostly stopped stocking...let me look." She walked into the back. Mal tapped his fingers on the counter, the song making him itch.

Luckily, she emerged before long. "You're in luck. I've got a few left, and one's practically new. I can't really sell them to most people, so I'll give you a discount. Anything else?"

"Yeah. You got any idea what kind of music would suit a girl as loves to dance?"

"How old is she?"

"Seventeen, eighteen," Mal estimated.

"Solo or partner?"

"Sorry?"

"This girl, does she like to dance alone, like you can do with ballet? Or with a partner, like with a waltz?"

Mal wished he'd thought of asking Simon before he'd left. "How about one of each?"

The shopkeeper reached into her drawer. "Shiny. I'll give you some Tchaikovsky—"

"Bless you."

"He's an Earth-That-Was composer. There's your ballet. And there's a new kind of waltz from Ariel that's very popular these days." The shopkeeper handed him a few envelopes. "You type these codes in on the Cortex and your song lists will come up."

"Thanks." Mal paid, collected the envelopes and the package with the com connector, and left the shop.

It turned out Kaylee and Zoe had been far more efficient than he and were back at the mule, both clutching packages whose shapes gave Mal no chance at guessing their contents. "Where's Jayne? Weren't he with you, Kaylee?"

Kaylee frowned. "He took himself off once we got the thing I wanted. I had more to do, so I didn't think nothin' of it."

Jayne limped up to the mule with a black eye and a cut lip, carrying an old sack and looking mighty pleased with himself. "I been shoppin'," he announced proudly. "Ain't no one gettin' in my way."

Mal sighed. "Let's go back to Serenity 'fore you bring the law down on us."

It began snowing again on their way back, though not too hard. Zoe went to make tea when they arrived, and Jayne followed her, mumbling something about gorram protein lunches that were the same every day. Kaylee waved at Inara, who was just emerging from her shuttle. "Didja have a good time?"

"I did indeed." Inara leaned her elbows on the railing. "I'm glad to be back, though."

"You got anythin' happenin' 'tween here and Christmas?"

"I'll be gone all tomorrow afternoon and evening, but I'll be back by the next morning."

"No Christmas sex?" Kaylee teased. Mal decided it was time to be elsewhere. He absolutely had important things to do.

Inara laughed. "I'm afraid not. But family is often even more wonderful."

"If you're Zoe and Wash you get both." Kaylee began pulling off her sweater. "'Course, the captain could have his share, if he wanted."

Mal paused with one foot on the lowermost stair. "I could what?"

Kaylee continued as if she hadn't heard him. "Not everyone's lucky enough to have someone to bed down with. I remember there was one time, back home, this lady and her man came through. So sweet to look at,both of 'em! Guess they thought I was too, 'cause when they couldn't afford to pay for their repairs, they said to me, why don't the three of us head back to where we're staying and we'll—"

"Why don't we go to my shuttle and you can tell me all about it?" Inara suggested. "River's been in there since I arrived an hour ago. We thought we'd make a few more snowflakes."

"Sure!" Kaylee skipped up the steps. "Hey, does the captain really not know what I was talkin' about?"

"Kaylee, that's between Mal and—" Inara stopped. "No, I don't think he does."

"Well, someone should say somethin'. It's a cryin' shame..." Kaylee's voice faded as she disappeared into the shuttle. Inara gave Mal an indecipherable look and followed her.

First Wash, now Kaylee. Both of 'em seeming convinced that he had his eye on someone. Probably Inara, but 'spite of what they might think, that weren't what he wanted. Mal weren't sure he could be that close to someone who'd never had to watch people die, who'd never had reason to pick up a gun, and who'd never had to live every day fleeing from a power they hated.

Mal preferred not to think about what he'd really want from a partner anyway. Hard enough to think about what he wanted for Christmas. He supposed the closest thing would be a chance to feel like others were happy and he'd caused it. Fool himself into thinking he were a good man.

Lunch came and went, and Mal found himself up on the bridge. There was something to be said for only having dinosaurs for company. They didn't ask hard questions or drop odd hints. However, he weren't alone with them for long.

"No! The fighting roosters are tearing, ripping in the sky! Their feathers are a curse!" River ran up, bare feet thumping on the stairs. "He needs help!"

"Who?" Mal demanded sharply.

"Simon. He needs you. Don't be Nero! Don't fiddle while Rome burns!"

"What are you on about?"

River dropped down to the floor, tearing at her face. "They're coming down. They think their fire is holy but it is profane. Snap of the gun, snap of the handcuffs, snap of the flames. The net is closing!" Inara ran up the stairs and knelt beside her.

Mal whirled around and hit his clients' wave code. After several long minutes filled with River's sobs and Inara's whispered reassurances, Tengfei's face appeared. "Glad to see you're back at your ship."

"What's going on in the city?"

"There was a crackdown. Adrianna told you it might happen, right? No one knows if it's the workers or the police, but somebody's been starting fires. And they're rioting in the streets. It's a mess. Good thing you're out of it."

"We ain't all out of it." Mal switched off the screen and ran down the stairs. "Zoe!"

Zoe straightened up from where she was reordering crates in the cargo bay. "Something wrong?"

"There's trouble in town. We're going to get Simon."

"What kind of trouble? Feds?"

"Riots and fires, by the sound of things."

River screamed from the top of the stairs, jerking away from Inara. "Don't wait! There were the three little pigs, with the brick house and the wood house and the straw house. This house is straw. Don't wait!"

"Got it." Zoe grabbed her gun belt. "Let's go."

Mal had to get a grip on himself in order not to run the mule into the ground as he steered. Because River would go flat-out moon-brained without her brother. Because eventually someone would get shot bad and without a doctor there'd be no one to patch them up. Not at all because he cared about Simon and wanted him safe. Not at all.

 _He needs you. Snap of the gun, snap of the handcuffs, snap of the flames. The net is closing. Don't wait._

"Sir, if you drive any faster you'll run the engine down before we even get there. I know you're worried, but—"

"I ain't worried," Mal snapped, reluctantly slowing down a bit.

"Yes, you are."

"Simon's got good sense. When there ain't folk getting injured."

"Point." Zoe's mouth twisted in worry. "Mayhap we do need to drive a mite faster. Riots and fires usually mean injured..."

 _"Ni ta ma de. Tianxia suoyoude ren. Dou gaisi."_ Mal shoved the controls right back up again.

When they got to the city—way later than Mal would've liked—the first two people they asked for directions to the hospital told them they'd have to be crazy to go down there now. Mal didn't honor their advice with answers. Zoe tapped on the handle of her gun, face expressionless.

They heard the sounds of the riots before they saw them, but the sights weren't long in coming. The police were beating down what rioters they could, but most of 'em weren't doing well. Folk hurled paving stones and pulled down street signs to defend themselves. In some places, guns were out on both sides. The rioters had set up crates and parts ripped off their ramshackle buildings on the roads. Soon they couldn't go no further driving.

"You stay with the mule," Mal ordered, swinging himself down. "Hospital ain't far. We'll be back."

"Be careful, sir."

"Will do."

The first block could've been worse, but once he rounded the corner, the real deal kicked in. Mal ducked rocks thrown at his back, elbowed a police guard in the stomach, avoided at least five people who tried to trip him, and heard two bullets bury themselves in the wall just above his head.

The closer he got to the hospital, the more smoke he could smell. Didn't that just figure. Folk had just lost their own to fire, now the police had to try and burn them out. He spotted the hospital across the street and plunged through the crowd, miraculously emerging with only one bruised cheekbone.

A policeman—local by the look of him, not a Fed—stood outside the door, trying to push past two doctors. "You're sheltering criminals in there. They've got to be apprehended."

"They're seriously hurt. Do you want me to count the lacerations?" It was Simon, Mal realized resignedly, and he sounded furious.

"Let me through."

The other doctor broke in. "Not a chance."

The policeman pulled his gun. "I'm serious, so get out of the way." Fear shot through Mal and he sped up.

Simon stood his ground. "If you want dead bodies in your jail, you can just grab a few off the street!"

The gun went off just before Mal grabbed it out of the man's hand and smashed the handle into his head, knocking him unconscious. "Did he get you?"

"No, I'm fine. You shouldn't be here, it's not safe."

"Then what the hell are you doing here?" Mal half-dragged him away from the hospital door and in the direction of the mule.

"They needed me." Simon was struggling to keep up, but Mal had no interest in slowing down and staying here for any longer than they had to. "They needed help."

"You looked like you could've used some help your own self. Ain't anyone ever teach you not to argue when someone's got a gun and you don't?"

"It's not a lesson I seem to have learned terribly well."

"You'd better learn it fast, is all I can say. And what's this about it not being safe for _me?"_ Mal lowered his voice. "You're the one with the price on his head. You're the one who can't shoot. You're the one who's got a sister as needs you."

"Fine, I was being stupid. I do that on occasion. Happy now?"

"Not in particular."

Zoe was waiting in the mule, tense. "There's more police on their way, I heard someone say so. Best get out of here now."

"Couldn't agree more." Mal climbed into the seat beside Zoe as Simon scrambled into the back.

It took more time than any of them would've liked, but they got out of the city without anything else going wrong. As the snow flew up from either side of the mule, Mal tried his best not to think on what could've happened outside that hospital. It was useless. If that policeman had aimed better, or had gotten another chance to shoot—no, that weren't a good direction to be sending his mind.

Simon was alright, and that was what mattered, and Mal realized a little too late that there was no way he could pretend to himself that he hadn't been terrified.

 **OoOoO**

Hours later, Mal sat in his bunk, trying to rid himself of the itch of the afternoon's events. He and his crew risked death every day, and there was no reason to be getting himself all hung up on what had happened. Except that his mind kept presenting him with unhelpful images of Simon with a bullet through his throat—a scenario that could all too easily have become fact.

Unable to sit, Mal rose and paced back and forth. Sure, it was _his_ job to go up against guns, Zoe's and Jayne's too. And Book and even Wash knew enough to hit a target when they shot at it. But that weren't Simon's job, any more than it were Kaylee's or Inara's. The doc had pulled bullets out of near every member of the crew—he knew the damage guns could do, so what the rutting hell had he been doing jumping in front of one?

But that was what Simon did, wasn't it? Throw himself in the way of danger to protect folk who needed help. Tackling Early and getting shot for it, going into Niska's Skyplex when it was clear as skies after rain he'd barely even held a gun before, climbing onto a gorram _pyre_ right along with his sister. Mal couldn't hardly decide whether all that made him want to shake Simon until his teeth rattled, or kiss him until he couldn't see straight.

No point in trying to sleep right now. Mal climbed the ladder and walked up the stairs to the bridge. Snow swirled against the window, the stars gleaming beyond it. One advantage of being on a border planet—at least you could see 'em. Not blocked out by city lights or pollution.

"Am I intruding?"

Mal turned to see Simon hovering uncertainly on the stairs. He expected that his common sense would advise him to send the doc away promptly, but his common sense seemed to be taking a nice long vacation. "No, you ain't. Come on up if you've a mind to."

Simon climbed the rest of the way to the bridge and moved by Mal to look outside. "Do you know any of the constellations on this planet?"

"Only been to Kerry a few times, so no. Why?"

"Just wondering. I'm fond of constellations, but we're on the move so much I never learn any of the local names. I've taken to making them up at times."

Mal moved over to where Simon stood, trying to pretend it was solely to get a better view and not so he could stand closer to the doctor. "Gonna make up any now?"

Simon pointed. "See that bright star over to the left?"

"Well enough."

"If you imagine that's the head, and those three stars make the top wing, and those three stars make the bottom wing, and that one over to the right makes the tail, you have an origami crane."

Mal examined the pattern closely. "Can see that."

"They make me think of your crew, those cranes."

"Why's that?"

"Because…" Simon watched the snow, falling harder now. "There's a story from Earth-That-Was about a girl who got radiation poisoning from bombs dropped on her country. They had a legend that if you folded a thousand origami cranes, you'd get a wish, so she started folding. But she died before she could finish." Simon paused. "Her friends folded the others. I suppose—I can see that. If anyone on this crew got sick like that, I can imagine the rest of us making cranes for them."

"Kaylee would, for sure," Mal agreed. "And the Shepherd and Inara. They'd most likely bother the rest of us 'til we joined in."

"The cranes mean peace, some say. And we could definitely use more of that in this 'verse."

"Ain't gonna get no arguments from me about that. More a man sees of war, the more he should want it to end, is my way of thinking."

Simon looked away from the sky and towards Mal. "Turnabout is fair play. You make up a constellation."

"Never done it."

"There's always a first time."

"As you say." Mal squinted past the whirling snow. "See those four stars over yonder? Them as look like they're in a line?"

"I do."

"If you say those two above 'em make the handle, and those three bright ones in the triangle below 'em make the spade part, I reckon it could be a shovel."

Simon glanced from the stars to Mal, then started to laugh. "A shovel? Really?"

"You insulting my constellation skills?"

"I'm just—" Simon caught his breath, then started laughing again. "I'm just trying to imagine the legend that would go with that."

"Hell, if my mother were in charge, there'd be shovels and rakes all over the sky. Couldn't have much of a garden on Shadow, but she gorram treasured what she got out of the ground. Always told me to grow something, wherever I went—" Mal stopped abruptly. He couldn't grow a thing now. Sky was the only thing the Alliance hadn't taken.

"Are you alright?" Simon peered at him, clearly concerned.

"Fine," Mal replied, short and sharp, and tried to convince himself he was glad of it when Simon turned away.

Because he handled his demons alone. Always had since the war, and always would.


	4. December Twenty-Fourth

**Translations:** Are below

 _Guan ni zi-ji de shi_ _—_ None of your business

 _Hun dan—_ Bastard

 _Ta ma de—_ Damn it

 **December 24** **th**

Mal walked into the kitchen the next morning and got a face full of tinsel. He sneezed twice and batted it away. "Kaylee..."

"Ain't it pretty, Captain?" His mechanic was up on a chair, hammering a nail into the wall to hang a paper chain on. Mal was about to yell at her for making holes in his ship when he noticed the scent. Cinnamon, cloves—oranges.

"What's that smell?"

"It's potpourri," Inara said from beside the stove. "We made it out of the extra spices and some oranges Simon bought the other day. I was going to bring out some incense, but we thought this was more holiday-appropriate."

"Smells better than those weird-ass sticks at least," Jayne remarked, which from him was a compliment. He gulped down the last of his protein mix and chucked the bowl in the sink.

"Jayne." The Shepherd stood in the door. "I believe you are on dish duty."

 _"Guan ni zi-ji de shi."_

Book was unperturbed. "That's hardly in the spirit of Christmas."

"Don't you have no more paper chains, River?" Kaylee jumped off the chair. "I thought we done made enough for the whole kitchen."

River, who'd been holding the box of nails, put it down and pulled three pine boughs out from under the table. "Variation in decoration is key in the establishment of a personal aesthetic. Besides, Simon wanted us to use these too."

"Gorram waste of space," Jayne grumbled, as Mal tried unsuccessfully not to think about the fact that the doctor had apparently bought evergreens and oranges after talking with him about 'em.

"Oh, but he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, was Scrooge!" River smiled brightly at Jayne and whacked him with a pine bough. "A squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner!"

Jayne glared. "What're you sayin' about me?"

River stuck out her tongue. "I know your Tiny Tim. His name is Mattie."

"Mattie? How the hell did you know—"

Wash came in, Zoe and Simon with him. "What's this about someone named Mattie? Because I've just gotten everyone's Christmas cards off the Cortex, and you have one signed by him, Jayne. And one from your mother."

"Gimme those!" Jayne grabbed 'em eagerly.

"And Kaylee, you've got about ten from your family." Wash juggled a handful of brightly decorated cards.

"Shiny!" Kaylee jumped off the chair and ran over. "I hope they got the gifts I sent! Weren't much, 'course, but I know what they like."

"Anything for us, husband?" Zoe inquired.

Wash handed her a letter. "This is from your brother and his wife. I've got one from my parents too. They asked about you. I'll tell them I'm attempting to treat you like a queen, and that you keep not letting me."

Zoe grinned. "Gotta make sure we don't starve. It's the thought that counts anyway."

"Ma got the credits I sent," Jayne proclaimed. "And Mattie's all better from the damp-lung."

Wash gave Inara two cards covered in neat calligraphy. "One's from your Companion House. The other's from someone whose name I can't pronounce."

Inara rolled her eyes. "I know who you mean. He's been trying to persuade me to take him on as a client for the past six months. I am glad to get news from my House, though."

Kaylee held up something that, to Mal's unpracticed eye, looked like a patch of colorful mold. "Look! My little cousin Eliza drew this picture for me all herself!"

"Book, you've got a letter from—" Wash squinted. "Your fellow Shepherds."

"My thanks." Book accepted it. "Ah, the winter vegetables are thriving, I'm glad to hear."

Mal glanced at Simon, which he was doing altogether too much these days and really should stop. The doctor's face was carefully arranged into a blank expression and his hands were tightly clasped in front of him. Of course he'd hardly be happy. Christmas cards wouldn't be forthcoming when you were on the run and your folks didn't know where to send 'em.

"I've got some new pictures of my brothers!" Kaylee waved them in the air. "I'll have to hang 'em in my bunk."

Inara laughed. "The things those apprentice Companions get up to. I remember from when I was a girl. My friends and I were just as bad."

"Looks like we're going to have a nephew or niece." Zoe handed her letter to Wash. "Have a look."

"Ma says a scarf is comin' for me in the post." Jayne tucked the cards in his pocket.

"'Wishing you a blessed Christmas,'" Book read aloud. "'We hope the peace of the Christ child will touch you in this season.'"

"Speaking of keeping in touch, Mal, our clients are bothering us again." Wash went over to get out a packet of protein. "It seems something's gone wrong with our proposed meeting place."

"Ain't signed up to baby-sit 'em," Mal grumbled. "Suppose I might as well go deal with it now."

Leaving the overly-festive kitchen, he climbed the stairs to the bridge and entered the wave code he was beginning to know by heart. This time, he had to reassure three people in a row that yes, he actually wanted to talk to Adrianna or Tengfei, and if they didn't fetch 'em, they could gorram well let 'em know why their cargo weren't in the right place. Finally, Adrianna's face appeared on the screen.

"Excellent, you managed to get back to us. We need to change the pickup point."

"Why? Something I should know about?"

"I doubt you'll care. We've got rivals who are trying to cut us out of the crop seed business. We've tried to evade them by trading in winter, but somehow they've gotten wind of where we were supposed to meet. I propose we move the coordinates we've got about five miles east. That'll give us the added benefit of being far away from the city. It's still not calmed down out there."

"Alright. Here's to hoping nothing else will go wrong."

"Here's to hoping." Adrianna ended the wave.

After breakfast, Kaylee and River announced they would decorate the railings up to the bridge. Simon supervised, obviously aware of the danger of leaving River with the rusty scissors again. Zoe cleaned her guns in the kitchen, Jayne and Book lifted weights in the cargo bay, Wash uttered a random string of words that seemed to follow a general gift-wrapping theme and disappeared into his bunk. When Kaylee struck up a round of carols and Book joined in, Mal fled to the closest hiding place, which turned out to be Inara's shuttle.

"Is the great captain scared of holiday melodies?" Inara looked up from her half-arranged tea set, raising a delicate eyebrow. "I would never have thought it."

"I ain't scared. They bother me, is all. Like getting in bed with a cactus. Ever done that?"

"No, I can't say I have."

"Only thing in the 'verse you ain't slept with, then. Hope you've hidden your section of the god Osiris out of River's prying eyes. Think her brother wouldn't take too kindly to her 'starting early,' as Jayne puts it."

Inara rolled her eyes, pouring herself a cup of tea. "I believe the implements of my profession are generally less dangerous than yours."

"Depends whose perspective you're looking at it from." Curiosity got the better of Mal's interest in irritating Inara. "What were you and Kaylee on about yesterday? About something I ought to know about but don't?"

"That isn't my secret to tell. But I think we should talk in any case."

"About what?"

"The fact that you're attracted to me, and I to you, and why neither of us have done anything about it."

Mal got up. "Think I'd rather listen to Christmas carols."

"You're not going anywhere," Inara said calmly. "Because if you do, you'll admit you're afraid of what I have to say."

Damn the woman, she was right. Mal dropped back onto the silk couch. "Alright, speak your piece."

Pouring a second cup of tea, Inara offered it to Mal. "Before you ask, no, I'm not trying to use my wiles on you. I simply happen to think truth goes well with tea."

Warily, Mal accepted the tea. "And what truth are you thinking to tell?"

Inara tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "In my house when I was young, every word out of my father's mouth made it clear he thought I was a burden. My mother needed money to run the house, but she was too sick to work, and he would taunt her by holding it out of her reach."

 _"Hun dan."_

"Yes. Very much so. I never thought every parent, or every man, was like him. But I always promised myself, seeing that, that I'd never be dependent on anyone for my living if I could help it."

"But why be a Companion?" The question came out of Mal's mouth before he could stop it. "Seems to me lots harder than thieving, having to pretend you feel something for all those folks you're with."

"I don't need to pretend. I do feel something, for almost all of them. Often my clients hire me because they just aren't able to have a real relationship. They're too shy, too busy, too unhappy."

"Don't you ever want to have a man who'll stay with you past one night?"

"Of course, at times. But being a Companion means everything to me. It's something I've worked to do well for years, and I'm proud of it. It means I can help people who need it. And it means I'm my own woman. So I won't give it up."

Independence. That was something Mal could understand, well enough, even if he didn't hardly agree with her way of going about the matter. "Wouldn't ask you to."

"I'm glad." Inara paused. "I'll miss everyone when I leave—I think you all are the closest thing to family I've had in a long time. But I don't want to start needing you now, Mal. Especially since _I'm_ not what _you_ need."

"What're you meaning by that?"

"You need somebody whose choices in life you can actually respect, and who can genuinely accept the choices you've made yourself. And neither of us are capable of that with each other, I'm afraid."

"If now's a time for truth…" Mal hesitated. "I do care for you, 'Nara. Ain't hardly a point in denying it."

"I thank you for that." Inara sipped her tea. "But I won't be turned into a way for you to distract yourself."

"Distract myself?"

"I'm trained to perceive attraction, Mal. Do you really think I haven't noticed how you've been watching Simon?"

 _Ta ma de._ "I ain't—"

"You can say it isn't true," Inara interrupted. "But that won't make it any less the case. And although I'm not particularly concerned with you lying to me about it, I am concerned if you keep lying to yourself."

Mal set his tea down. "They ain't singing carols no more. I'm gone."

Inara sighed. "Think about it. Before you lose your chance."

Jayne and the Shepherd were still downstairs when Mal left the shuttle, but it seemed Kaylee and River had taken their Christmas preparations elsewhere. Best to sneak up to the bridge, he decided. If they'd already decorated the railings up to there, they wouldn't stay, would they?

No sound came from the top of the stairs. Mal took the last three in a bound and was about to congratulate himself on an escape well made, when he heard strange, almost haunting music emerging from the copilot's seat. "Hello?"

The music cut off and the seat's occupant jerked 'round to face Mal. It was Simon, and he was holding what appeared to be a cheap tin whistle. "I—hello."

"What've you got there?"

"Oh, it's just a penny whistle." Simon looked embarrassed. "They gave me some credits for treating the injured in the hospital, and one girl whose mother I helped added this in. I tried to give it back, but she insisted."

"And you can play it?"

"I had one when I was younger. I liked it because I didn't have to play it perfectly. But I'm rather out of practice."

"Sounded pretty good when I came in." Mal held out his hand. "Care to let me have a go?"

"Of course, if you'd like." Simon handed over the tin whistle.

Mal hadn't held one of these in years, but it seemed to be a thing you didn't forget. He played a quick reel, then handed it back to Simon. "Out of practice myself. Used to be, I'd play something not too far off from this at barn-raising dances—we had those back on Shadow."

"Why…" Simon trailed off.

"Why what?"

"Why do we never stop on Shadow? We've flown through that system at least twice since River and I came onboard. From the way you talk about your family, I'd have thought you'd want to visit them."

"Can't," Mal said shortly. "Part of Shadow where I'm from? It's black rock. My folks were killed in the war."

"Your family—I'm sorry." Simon stood. "I shouldn't have brought it up—"

"Don't blame you for wondering. Were they alive, I'd visit 'em. Reckon you'd visit your folks too, if you could."

Simon's eyes dropped to the console, where, Mal noticed for the first time, lay a handheld Cortex screen. "I'm not so sure."

That was more bitter-sounding than Mal had ever heard from Simon. "You get bad news there?" He gestured to the screen.

"In a way." Simon gazed at the wall. "It's stupid. Everyone was opening their cards this morning, and I almost wished we'd gotten something too, for River's sake. But even if my parents would send a letter, I don't think I'd want it."

The bitter tone was still there—stronger, even. Mal frowned. "You wouldn't?"

"No. Last time we talked..."

"What?"

Simon glanced back down at the handheld screen. "A few months before we came here, I got caught in a blackout zone, trying to make contacts to help find River. My father came to get me out. He apparently had to leave a very important dinner party."

Mal snorted. "Sounds like Jayne. The man hates being disturbed during his meals."

Simon looked surprised, then smiled a little. "I'm pretty sure neither of them would appreciate that comparison." He sobered. "My father was scared, I understand that. He'd spent half his life trying to build up a reputation as a trustworthy businessman, and now my being a criminal was going to ruin all that."

"Seems to me like when you get a call your son's been arrested, you'll be a mite more worried about him than about your business."

"That's what I thought. Or at least that he'd understand I was doing it to help River." Simon's mouth twisted oddly. "But that wasn't...He said if I got mixed up in anything worse, I was on my own. That he wouldn't come for me again."

"Your folks would leave you to rot in prison?" Mal's voice came out more angry than he'd meant. The thought of Simon being forced to endure the starvation and beatings on a penal moon—it was enough make him want to half-strangle the Tam parents. "Do they got any idea what goes on in places like that?"

"I wanted to think they didn't. But I was on the Cortex today. My parents..." Simon stopped, then went on, low. "I suppose they sent us their own kind of Christmas card. They put out a statement—" he picked up and consulted the screen "—decrying my illegal and immoral behavior in abducting my sister from her exemplary learning institute. And reassuring everyone that in the event of our return, they'll be happy to support all necessary criminal prosecution."

Mal yanked the screen out of Simon's hand and set it on the console. "You did what you had to do. They want to trade family for a little safety, then that's their loss. They don't deserve a daughter like River or a son like you."

"That's not the..." Simon shook his head. "Later, they say they support the voiding of my medical credentials. Which I guess is the Alliance's early Christmas present. Most of my life I've either been a doctor or trying to become one, and now they're trying to take that away too."

"They can't." Mal ignored the urge to put a hand on Simon's, or an arm around his shoulders, or any other definitely-not-good thing like that. "It ain't a piece of paper as let you pull a bullet out of Kaylee's gut like you was born to it. Lets you spin up a medication mix that has your sister smiling again. Restart Zoe's heart, patch Jayne's spine up, get Wash on his feet after Niska ran him through the mill, stitch my ear back on. Those things, they're what make you a doctor."

Simon looked straight at him, and Mal felt a shiver run over his skin. "It means more that you think of me as a doctor than that the Alliance does." He paused. "It's not as if you're any less a captain for not having a piece of paper to prove it."

"Hey, I got papers to Serenity."

"Do they have your name on them?"

"Point taken." Mal leaned on the console. "What you need to captain is the crew, anyways. A man or woman able to get folks to trust 'em deserves a ship, that's my way of looking at it."

"How _did_ you get Serenity? At first I wondered why anyone would buy a Firefly, and then I wondered why everyone didn't. It seems insane that this ship still holds together, and yet it does."

Mal grinned. "That's truth. Matter of fact, when I went to the shipyard to see what I could find, the salesman spent ten minutes talking up some other piece of junk. But when I saw Serenity, I weren't having none of that. Zoe called it a deathtrap."

Simon laughed. "Funny how people end up with these erroneous impressions. I can't imagine what gave her that idea."

"Don't make fun of my ship," Mal told him, mock-serious. "Took us three weeks to get her up and running. But we couldn't take no short cuts. You can't trust a ship to hold up when it comes to the little things, then you can't trust her on the big ones neither. My mama used to say that about people."

"It sounds like your mother was a smart woman."

"You know it. If she ain't drilled that into my skull, this ship might've fallen to bits. And for sure we'd have holes in our protein packs. Let me tell you, it takes a goodly amount of work, getting rats out of some of those secret compartments."

"Hey, Simon!" Kaylee shot up the stairs, followed closely by River. "We need them scissors back!"

"Alright, alright." Simon produced the scissors from where he'd apparently hidden them under the console, and Mal, trying to pretend he hadn't wanted to talk to Simon any more, went to take care of his guns with Zoe.

Despite Mal's determination to ignore Christmas as much as was possible, he couldn't deny the feeling that he might once have referred to as the holiday spirit. River's nonsense was a bit less depressing than usual if no more understandable. Zoe and Wash looked like they'd been married two days past. Book whistled as he cooked, Jayne refrained from more than two rude comments per meal, and Kaylee never stopped beaming.

"None of this tomorrow!" she announced gaily, whisking the remains of their protein dinner off the table. "We had enough coin for breakfast food too!"

"Don't forget the job," Mal warned. "We gotta do that."

"But we have at least 'til Inara gets back," Zoe reminded him. "She told us she'd come late tonight, but if not, we can't leave without her."

Book pushed back his chair. "Before Jayne and I do the dishes—" Mal shot Jayne a look to keep him from arguing "—I thought perhaps someone would like to tell a Christmas story."

"That sounds real nice, Shepherd!" Kaylee agreed.

"We been over this before," Mal broke in. "You're welcome on my boat—"

"And God isn't." Book nodded. "But there are other stories besides those in the Bible. And other people on this ship to tell stories besides me."

"I got one!" Kaylee broke in excitedly. "My grandma used to—"

"Too bad 'Nara ain't here to tell a whorin' story," Jayne groused.

Wash turned to Zoe. "Remember when you and me and Mal went on shore leave and—"

"You ain't telling that one," Zoe told her husband before Mal could yell at him.

River's voice cut through. "Simon's going to tell a story."

Simon jumped. "What? I am?"

"Yes. You're going to tell us the story that always makes you think of Mal."

"River! How did you—I mean, what are you talking about?"

"Now I'm curious, Doc," Zoe remarked.

"I ain't," Jayne muttered. "Ow!" He glared. "Crazy kicked me!"

"Your sister does seem quite set on it." Book nodded at River. "Perhaps you should oblige her."

"I'm not any good at telling stories."

"If you don't, I'll cry. And then I'll kill Jayne with my brain."

"Now _there_ would be a terrible loss," Simon muttered. "Alright, River. You owe me."

Kaylee propped her feet on a chair rung, River tucked her knees under her chin and leaned against the leg. Jayne stuck his knife back in its sheath as Zoe took Wash's hand.

"This is a story from Earth-That-Was. Around six hundred years ago, I think," Simon began. "There was a war. No one really remembers how or why it started. It was a war without ships of any kind, with guns and gas. The ground—the ground they fought over turned to ruins, so they called it No Man's Land. The soldiers would dig into trenches and try to stay there as long as they could." Mal turned to listen despite himself.

"You gonna tell us a story about a hero in that war?" Kaylee asked.

"Sort of." Simon paused a moment. "Often the trenches of both sides wouldn't be very far from each other. One Christmas Eve, the soldiers—they couldn't go home. That night, the ones from the country called England, who were fighting for the country of France, were celebrating as best they could."

"What were the other side called?" Jayne asked, obviously forgetting to look bored.

"Germany. Since the English soldiers hadn't been allowed to go home for Christmas, they shared the packages their relatives had sent. So there they were, in the trenches, and they heard a sound. They were expecting gunfire or shouts." Simon glanced at Mal and quickly looked away. "But they heard something else."

"What did they—" Wash began, when River broke into song, the haunting melody the same as two days back.

 _"Stille Nacht, heil'ge Nacht,  
Hirten erst kundgemacht  
Durch der Engel Halleluja,  
Tönt es laut von fern und nah:  
Christ, der Retter ist da,  
Christ, der Retter ist da!"_

"They heard singing," Simon went on. "The Germans were singing. Some of the men wrote home about hearing that carol River just sang. I, um, looked it up after the other day. It's called Silent Night.

"What we know is that no countries had arranged a truce that night. France and England and Germany were as much enemies as ever. But on Christmas Eve, the troops on both sides put down their weapons and met between their trenches. Thousands did it, some say tens of thousands.

"They didn't always speak the same language, but they made it clear by signs what they meant. Talked with the men they'd been trying to kill only a few hours before. They shared what Christmas food they had, like chocolate, whiskey, tobacco. A few kicked a football around in the snow, not even keeping score. The commanders tried to stop the truce, but in most cases they couldn't that year.

"The soldiers were never far from their guns, and the next day they went back to being enemies." Simon looked at his hands for a moment. "It was just one small ceasefire. I don't know if that matters to people who've actually been in a war."

"It matters," Mal said quietly, and said no more. Zoe nodded.

River hummed the melody again. Kaylee looked thoughtful, and Book smiled softly. Jayne mumbled something under his breath and Wash watched his wife. Simon looked embarrassed. "That's really all there is to it. They were killing each other, they stopped for a little while, they killed again." He glanced at Kaylee. "You're right, though. It's about heroes. Even if they were heroes for just one night."

The rest of the evening was odd for Mal. Book spoke of the pranks the younger Shepherds played on Christmas, Kaylee told the story of her first snowfall, and Jayne related a tale involving a prostitute and a pie that made even Wash throw a napkin at his head. But it felt like Simon had seen into his head, knowing a story like that would touch him, and Mal weren't sure what to think of that.

Because he already liked Simon too much, and gorram it if he'd let his feelings get the better of his sense.

 **Note**

The story Simon tells in this chapter really happened, during World War I. It's fascinating history—look it up if you like that sort of thing.


	5. New Year's Eve

Better late than never, right?

Translations: Are below.

 _Wo de ma he ta de feng kuang de wai sheng dou—_ Holy Mother of God and all her wacky nephews

 _Hun dan—_ Bastard

 _Dong ma?—_ Understand?

 _Meimei—_ Little sister

 _Shen-sheng de gao-wan—_ Holy testicle Tuesday

 **New Year's Eve**

"Glad to be out of that infirmary?" Zoe leaned against the pilot's chair on the bridge. "Reckoned you were gonna go insane."

"Nearly did." Mal flipped the switches on the console. "Know more about Simon's doctoring stories than I ever asked for, and he knows more of my sergeant stories than he needs."

Zoe frowned suddenly. "Sir, you notice anything wrong with that sentence?"

"Not in particular. What do you mean?"

"You didn't say you told Simon captain stories. You said you told him sergeant stories."

"So?" Mal shrugged. "We had naught to do but talk, 'specially after Simon ran out of things to sort."

"You gotta admit, it's a mite odd you talking over war stories with Simon when you're sitting alone together. What'd you tell him?"

"Don't know why you want to know, but let's see. Told him about when you and me got pinned down on that cliff and near had to start an avalanche to get out of it. When Chandra got hold of a bunch of firecrackers to use as a diversion and Henry tried to steal 'em for his birthday. When Joel crawled three miles to get back to base after he near lost a foot. When we were stuck in that town and half of us got poisoned—"

"The gift exchange?" Zoe stared. "You told him about that?"

"Why shouldn't I? You were the one as told me it weren't always best to hide everything."

 _"Wo de ma he ta de feng kuang de wai sheng dou._ You're dead gone on him."

"What? Zoe, that's a notion you better get out of your head."

"Agreeing to do that gift exchange 'cause he says it's revenge? Getting crazy worried over him when those rioters come? Looking the way you did over that story he told Christmas Eve? Fine. I'll leave all that out of it. But, for you, telling that story is like showing up on his doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, even if no one knows it but me."

"It ain't like that. You got it all wrong."

"With all due respect, sir," Zoe said flatly. "You're an idiot." She walked off down the stairs.

 **OoOoO**

Mal dug through the old crate in the corner of his bunk, cursing himself for giving in to Kaylee's foolery. She'd insisted it would be a shiny idea to have sparklers on New Year's Eve, and Mal had made the mistake of mentioning he thought he had a few old ones hidden away somewhere. At which point he'd been subjected to Kaylee's wide-eyed pleas—which were near impossible to resist unless there were many lives at stake—'til he went to look for 'em.

How long had it been since he'd sorted through this crate, anyway? Four years? More? Mal pushed two broken gun cartridges and a torn calligraphy-covered wall hanging out of the way. Where the gorram hell were those sparklers? If they even still worked. His hand closed on something that felt like a metal chain and he yanked it out—then froze.

It was the cross he'd worn in Serenity Valley. Why'd he ever kept that?

There were footsteps on the ladder leading into his bunk, and Mal whipped 'round to see Simon standing there. "Problem, Doc?"

"No, but Kaylee told me you were down here, and I just wanted to ask—" Simon stopped, peering at Mal. "Is that a cross? I thought you didn't care much for anything to do with God."

Mal threw it back in the crate. "I don't. Haven't worn that old thing in six years."

"Why do you still have it, then?"

No accusation or challenge in Simon's voice—just simple curiosity. Almost made Mal want to actually answer—that is, if he'd known what to say. Instead, he shrugged. "Suppose I never got 'round to getting rid of it." That sounded a poor excuse even to him. "It don't mean much to me one way or the other, since I lost my faith."

"But you do believe."

Shocked by how absolutely sure Simon sounded, Mal stared at him. "No, I don't. What's got you thinking otherwise?"

"Balance of probability." Simon paused. "I'm your medic, I know what Niska did to you and Wash. Statistically speaking, most people who get through that kind of torture and don't break—they have something to hold onto. I'm guessing for Wash, it was Zoe. For you—well, I don't know _what_ you believe in, but I do think it's there."

Mal knew perfectly well what had kept him going through the torture—the knowledge that if he didn't survive, or lost his mind, it was goodbye to Simon and River's haven on Serenity. He weren't about to trust anyone else with their safety. But there'd be no benefit to saying as much. "So, did Kaylee send you down here to ask after those gorram sparklers?"

"No, but I wanted to ask how your head was."

"I'm _fine."_ Mal rolled his eyes. "Why you keep fussing about it I'll never—"

"Do you have any idea what it was like, those two days you were out?" Simon interrupted, voice heated. "None of us knew what to do. I felt as if I'd failed you—failed everyone—"

"Since when does some _hun dan_ taking a shot at me mean you've failed us? That don't make any kind of sense."

"But I couldn't help you. I'm supposed to be your medic, supposed to fix things. But I did everything I could, and you just wouldn't wake up, and—"

"And now I'm walking and talking, so back off on blaming yourself!" Mal got to his feet and grabbed Simon by the shoulders, realizing only too late how close that put them. "Ain't no one here gonna condemn you for not performing miracles. None of what went down was your fault, _dong ma?"_

Anything else he might've said was cut off when Simon kissed him.

It was over almost before it began, and Simon stumbled back. "I'm sorry. That was—unprofessional. I didn't mean—"

"Oh, no you don't," Mal muttered. He pulled the doctor closer and their mouths met again. Simon shuddered and went pliant against him. It was exactly what Mal wanted—Simon in his arms, body pressed against his, with him, under him, everything—

And then Simon jerked away, backing up. "Mal, I—I can't."

"What? Why not?"

"I can't be your distraction." For the briefest moment, Simon looked as if he might cry, then the moment passed. "Believe me, I'd love to be. But I'm not strong enough for that." He started to climb the ladder out of Mal's bunk.

"Distraction? Distraction from what?"

"Inara."

 _"What?_ Simon, you ain't thinking—"

The door to Mal's bunk slammed shut. Mal cursed, dropped back to sit on the bed, and wondered how in hell he was going to fix this.

 **OoOoO**

That evening, Serenity's crew gathered in the kitchen to cook. Mal didn't pretend he weren't a bit nervous about the combination of River, Jayne, and knives, but he kept his worries to himself, for the most part. If they kept their eyes open, things should be alright.

"Jayne!" Kaylee smacked him for the third time. "We saved that pumpkin for the pie near five days, now you're gonna eat it all 'fore it even gets to the table?"

"I'm cookin' it. Ain't I allowed to sneak some?"

"Do you see anyone else sneaking?" Zoe checked on the meat in the oven. "Shepherd, this rosemary's sure gonna be a help. The garlic, too."

"Glad to hear it." Book was mashing sweet potatoes on the counter. "I must say, I had no idea this crew was so efficient at cookery."

"Not me," Wash declared from where he was ending beans with River. They'd all agreed that that task, at least, weren't too dangerous for her. "I burn everything."

Mal rolled out the pie crust. In lack of a rolling pin, they were using one of Jayne's old whiskey bottles. He'd had some doubt he'd remember his mother's old recipe, but it turned out that was as drilled into his head as everything else.

"Zoe, is that meat near done?" Kaylee asked. "I wanna put these popovers in."

"Just about," Zoe replied. "I still don't really get why we're having these for dinner, not breakfast."

"You can put gravy in 'em. If you're as good at makin' that as you say, it'll be right tasty."

"Zoe can make whatever she wants," Wash announced with confidence.

Simon came in from the hall, carefully avoiding Mal's gaze, and turned to Inara. "Thank you for letting me use your shuttle to peel the onions. I'm sure everyone appreciates non-watering eyes."

"It's not a problem." Inara went to the cooler. "I'll just use some incense to get rid of the scent. Now, what do I do about this cream sauce?"

Miraculously, with River in the kitchen, nothing broke and nobody got slashed with a knife, and soon everyone was sitting down to dinner in the tinsel-covered kitchen. Inara declared that since she refused to tell them a "whoring" story (the term Jayne's, not hers) she'd tell them about her training in the Companion House.

"And Mala got so tired of the House Mistress telling her that she had to glide, not walk, that she stole all her shoes and filled them with snails and slugs," Inara finished. "She had extra chores for two weeks, but she always said it was worth it, to see that even the House Mistress couldn't be graceful under _every_ circumstance."

"Didja have a Christmas tree in the Companion House, 'Nara?" Kaylee asked. "We used to have one every year. A big old noble fir. But then we moved south, and there weren't no evergreens. My daddy had to get us a bunch of palm fronds instead. Harder to put lights on, but we managed."

The crew swapped more stories for the rest of the dinner. River told a surprisingly understandable tale about a Christmas dinner where their crazy grandmother, convinced the wood fairies were coming to steal the children away, filled the house with pepper to ward them off. Wash regaled them with a story of his first time behind the controls of a spaceship, when his vision had been blocked by a cloud of pigeons right after takeoff. Jayne tried to start back into his prostitute-and-pie tale, but got kicked by three people at once.

"Alright, it's time," Kaylee finally announced. "Everyone go get their gifts. Gotta show 'em off and hear who gave 'em to you."

Mal, back in his bunk, stared at the black envelope. Wasn't sure he was looking forward to know who gave him that. But Kaylee would get it out of him whether he brought it or not, so he decided to save himself the bother.

Back at the table, Jayne apparently decided it was his job to go first. "I got myself a new firin' pin for a Callahan full-bore autolock, with a customized trigger, double-cartridge thorough gauge. Vera's gonna be right pleased. Who got me this?"

Wash waved a hand. "That would be me."

"Guess you might be good for somethin' after all. Thanks."

"What did you get, Simon?" Kaylee asked.

River cut in before her brother could answer. "The potential ability to disable certain vital organs without the aid of a scalpel or drugs." She grinned. "Dangerous."

"If that's your way of saying I got the offer of gun lessons, you're right. I certainly need them." Simon looked at the others. "Also, I have a book of Earth-That-Was poetry, for which I'm most grateful. I haven't had much new to read out here in the black."

"So who gave it?" Kaylee asked.

Zoe nodded at Simon. "Guilty, Doc. Hope you take me up on the lessons."

"Don't worry. I will."

"I've received a new Bible," Book volunteered. "Of a very rare type, printed on an antique Sihnon press. I'm hoping River won't cut it up."

"No promises."

Inara smiled. "I'm glad you like it. That was me."

"It's quite special. Thank you."

Kaylee waved a small pouch around in the air. "I got a new set of jacks and a ball! I've lost nearly all my old ones. And a welder, a little one for careful work."

River smiled. "Stars are the jacks. Ball is the moon. Welder is the sun." She poked Simon. "You thought I was crazy."

"Thanks, River!" Kaylee hugged her around the shoulders. "Guess you'd be the one to know I needed 'em."

Inara pulled two highly decorated pins out of her hair. "According to the box, these can be filled with knockout drugs. They're released when I squeeze this gem. Even apart from that, they're lovely. Who was it?"

"Me," Jayne said proudly. "Now none of your clients can mess with you."

"I'll be sure to keep them with me."

Wash pulled out a couple of very colorful books. "I've got these. Written by someone named Dr. Seuss." He read aloud. "'You have brains in your head, you have feet in your shoes, you can steer yourself any direction you choose.' Also the promise of some help in paying to replace a flight control next time I think it's necessary and Mal doesn't."

Book winked. "I hope you find the books entertaining."

"Everyone knows what I received. And I know who gave them to me." River pointed at Mal.

Mal, who had been doing one of his customary and completely accidental Simon-glances, got the blast of an expression full of gratitude that nearly made him fall off his chair. Hastily, he looked at River instead. "Glad you liked 'em."

"Play is necessary in the development of the brain. Thank you."

Zoe held up a tin. "I've got gun oil. Also a big fluffy bathrobe. And I reckon I've got some idea who might think of a thing like that."

Kaylee laughed. "Yeah, it was me. And Jayne helped me pick out the gun oil. Hope you like it."

"I do for certain. Thanks."

Mal was about to own up to his gift when he realized, and looked around frantically. If Wash and Zoe and Inara and River and Jayne and Book and Kaylee had all owned up, that left one person to give to him. Simon.

"What'd you get, Captain?" Kaylee asked. "Must be somethin' crazy to make you look like that."

"Yeah, Mal." Wash waved at Simon. "I guess we all know who gave the gift. So what is it?"

"Here." Mal pulled out the envelope and opened it. "Reckon you better have a look yourselves."

He carefully looked at anyone but Simon as his crew passed the letters around. Face after face looked astonished, pair after pair of eyebrows went up, mouth after mouth dropped open, the more they read. Mal sat, tense as hell, the whole time.

Jayne was the first to speak. "I don't get it. Why'd the doc get a bunch of gifts for other folk? This were supposed to be for Mal."

Kaylee smacked him again. "If it weren't for the captain needin' a gift, none of these folk would've gotten no coin. So it's all 'cause of him. Don't ya know how good it feels when you do somethin' for other people?"

Wash grinned. "This is Jayne we're talking about. I wouldn't count on it. But the rest of us have some idea."

Book nodded. "Looks like you've made a lot of people happy, Captain."

"It ain't often we get a chance to do good out in the black," Zoe said.

"What do you think of your gift?" River asked cheekily.

Now it was Simon's turn to poke her. "That's rude, _meimei._ "

"You want to know."

Mal had no idea what to say. I'm scared you know me this well? It's too much and I shouldn't accept it? If the crew weren't here I'd kiss you dizzy? "Zoe's got the right of it. There's too much hardship in the worlds. Makes it a real treat when we can relieve some of it. Thank you."

Simon was bright red. "You're welcome."

"How many credits is this again?" Jayne was consulting the letters. "I can't add 'em right."

"Of course you can't," Wash told him. "Your brain's shorted out at the thought of money."

Kaylee clapped her hands together. "Alright, folks. I got one more surprise for you. River's gonna help me, so you all gotta clear out of the kitchen for a few minutes. Might wanna put your gifts back in your bunks."

Everyone did as she ordered, heading for their bunks. Once he'd put the envelope where it belonged, Mal stood for a moment, trying to get his thoughts together. Again, Zoe's words came back. _Mayhap it's friendship, mayhap it's romance-like, but whoever gave you this loves you. That's plain obvious._

Mal steeled himself and walked towards the passenger quarters. His brain was screaming at him to run in the opposite direction, and it would've been real easy. But he didn't do easy in anything else. Why not add this mad stunt to the rest?

Simon was just walking out of his room when Mal found him. The turning-bright-red promptly returned. "Um, I did want to say. Thank you for the gift to River. It really made her happy. She—"

"Why'd you do it?" Mal interrupted.

"Do what?"

"Give me that gift."

"I'm sorry." Simon looked down. "It wasn't really giving _you_ anything. But I thought and thought—"

"What the hell are you sorry for? It's worth more than just about anything I own, and I ain't talking just about coin. Those folks you found? They were near as close to me as Zoe, in the war. Saved my life, I saved theirs. Giving them some help would be of value even if you hadn't spent half a fortune on it."

"It wasn't all money I'd saved. The people I helped in the city the other day gave me some too."

"But you could have used it for your own self easy. Why'd you do it?"

"Because I thought you'd be glad of it. And anyone who's glad when other people suffer a little less deserves a gift that's of value."

"I ain't a nice man, Simon. You shouldn't be getting that idea."

"Don't you think I know that? Just on the first day we met, you threatened to throw River and me out the airlock, tricked me into thinking Kaylee had died, and shot a federal agent. Since then I've watched you brawl and kill and smuggle."

"So why do you—"

Simon went on. "But I've also seen you return stolen medicine and face up to torture and defend people who need your help and come back for us. Twice. I don't believe anymore that there's such a thing as a good man. There are just people who try to do what's right with what they're given."

Time to be the idiot Zoe said he was. "Alright. I'm going to the special hell."

"What are you talking about?"

Mal kissed him.

He had two seconds before Simon jumped back. "Mal, what are you doing? I thought you and Inara—"

Best clear _that_ up right quick. "We ain't. We'd never work—hell, we can hardly talk without fighting."

"You're serious."

"As I've ever been."

Simon took a breath. "Don't taunt me. I'm the Core-bred doctor with the three-quarters mad sister who could bring the Alliance down on your crew at any second. I can't offer you half of what anyone else could."

"Then your half's the half I want." Mal met his eyes. "I want the man who's generous enough to give up everything when he knows his sister's in trouble. Who's smart enough to drag folks back from the edge of death. Who's brave enough to pick up a gun even when he's got no idea how to shoot it. So don't tell me I'm taunting you. If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't."

"Mal." Simon's voice was almost a whisper. "When you came back for us on Jiangyin and told those villagers River was our witch, so cut her the hell down—I've wanted to kiss you ever since then."

"Then why don't you do it? I ain't walking away from this."

What started as a tentative brush of lips quickly turned into far more. Mal had never felt so alive as he did with Simon in his arms, tasting him, feeling the heat of him, pressing close together with a tenderness he hadn't felt out in the black since before the war.

When they finally broke apart, Mal brushed a thumb over Simon's cheekbone. "Can't promise you easy. Reckon you know that. Life out here's dangerous."

"I don't care what kind of heartbreak it sets me up for later. This is worth it."

Mal kissed him again, not bothering to keep his hands from wandering, but Simon didn't seem inclined to call a halt. Their breathing quickened and pleasure coiled in Mal. He pushed Simon against the wall and went about exploring and claiming his mouth, finding what made him shiver and gasp.

"Ah. Excuse me."

Simon started, and Mal turned to see Book standing there. "You got a problem with this, Shepherd? Because I'm telling you right now, we don't care."

Book smiled. "True men of God don't judge the way people choose to love each other. But I believe Kaylee will be disappointed if you don't come partake of the champagne she somehow managed to procure for a New Year's toast."

"Guess we'd better not miss that." Mal reluctantly pulled away from Simon. "More of this later."

"I certainly hope so." Simon grinned.

When they all got upstairs, Kaylee raised her champagne-filled cup. "Now, you all have been real obligin' when it comes to this here celebratin', but there's just one more thing. We all gotta say what we wish for the New Year. _I_ hope my girl Serenity stays flyin', and that all my family ends up real healthy and happy." She looked around. "My family back dirtside _and_ my family here."

"You also wish to employ the engine room for alternate purposes. As you did when you first came on this ship." River ruffled her hair. "I think you should tutor me."

Kaylee looked up at her and laughed. "Do you now?"

"I hope we get double takes on all our jobs, and that I don't get shot for a few weeks at least." Jayne took a gulp of champagne.

Zoe laid her hand on Wash's. "We all get through safe, I'm good."

Her husband nodded. "If fate's in a generous mood, she could send me another plastic dinosaur. But I'll be happy if we're still together next year, all of us."

Inara held up her cup. "I agree."

"We live with broken minds and broken hearts as well as broken bodies, at times," Book said, smoothing the cover of his new Bible. "I pray they all heal."

Simon looked around at the crew. "A year ago, I had no home and no idea where River was. I wished for better for next year, and I found more than I had reason to hope for. Kaylee's right. If Serenity stays flying, that's enough."

"Now my turn," Mal announced. "And my hope is that this lasts." And he leaned over and pulled Simon into a kiss.

Kaylee whistled. River clapped. Jayne fell off his chair. _"Shen-sheng de gao-wan!_ When did _that_ happen?"

"You're the only one who's surprised," Inara told him.

"Yeah," Wash put in. "The rest of us knew before they did."

Mal, who was now letting himself look at Simon all he wanted, wondered why he hadn't done this ages ago. "Guess this Christmas thing could've gone worse."

Wash turned to Jayne. "You owe me fifteen credits."

 **The End.**


End file.
